


That Insufferable New Roommate

by sleeperbyday



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Count Gloucester is the CEO of bad parenting, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Roommates, Slice of Life, Slow Burn, Some angst, Tea, Texting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-05
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:21:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 24
Words: 99,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25089832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleeperbyday/pseuds/sleeperbyday
Summary: Lorenz's life is turned upside down when he is suddenly assigned a roommate by the name of Claude.
Relationships: Lorenz Hellman Gloucester & Claude von Riegan, Lorenz Hellman Gloucester/Claude von Riegan
Comments: 167
Kudos: 128





	1. Unique Circumstances

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is, my first chapter fic! I've been wondering how I would go about writing something like this for a while now and am just as excited to see how it turns out as you are!

Lorenz Hellman Gloucester was perfectly content with his life.

He was a brilliant student with a promising future ahead of him as the son of a successful and wealthy CEO. He was lucky enough for his father to have recognised the importance of his education and paid handsomely for Lorenz to have a dorm room to himself. Though he was quite a social person, he enjoyed the relative peace and quiet that allowed him ample time to study and peruse his hobbies in private. 

He had settled into a reliable routine that he lived by day after day. Every morning Lorenz woke up, got himself ready for the day in the privacy of his room, treated himself to a morning tea from the campus café and went to class. After class, he preferred to not waste too much time getting caught up in such frivolous activities as other students and often retreated to his dorm to study. Weekends were when he truly allowed himself some time off, socialising with old friends and making new ones.

It was a modest routine, but a reliable one that he hardly ever deviated from.

His business administration and economics classes were intensive and difficult to pass. They sometimes felt rather dull but Lorenz would need this information for when he inherited his father’s business. So, he was determined to pay the utmost attention and work tirelessly towards achieving the highest possible grades. 

Which was why he didn’t particularly appreciate being called out of an important lecture by the student services admin. Especially once he heard the utterly irritating reason why.

“A _roommate_? You expect me to share my room with someone and give up any semblance of serenity and privacy I have? Surely you must be joking?” Lorenz scoffed in annoyance.

“I understand that this is quite sudden and I apologise for any inconvenience,” Seteth answered. “But please know that there are currently no other rooms available for our new student. There is little room for argument.”

“Why is there a new student here in the first place? The semester is well underway; what sort of fool would disadvantage themselves by enrolling after classes have already commenced?” Baffled and frustrated, Lorenz began to argue. 

“The faculty is well aware that this is an unusual situation but this particular student has… _unique_ circumstances,” the emphasis Seteth placed on that word raising more questions than it answered.

“As do I. Don’t you know who I am? I am the heir to the Gloucester Corporation and my education here is of paramount importance. In order to maintain concentration on my personal studies, I require a quiet, solitary environment. I will not allow some hooligan to invade my space and make a mess of everything.” 

“Lorenz, please listen. There is little else we can do,“ Seteth pinched the bridge of his nose, an action he was known for doing when he was running low on patience. “All we ask is that you meet him and try to get along as best you can.”

Lorenz folded his arms, glaring at Seteth’s nameplate on his desk. “Very well. If it can’t be helped, I suppose I will simply have to tolerate this _Claude_ ,” he huffed, spitting out the name like venom. He briefly questioned whether he was being petulant but quickly dismissed the idea; he was surely doing Seteth a favour by being so agreeable. Besides, whoever made this decision must know how displeased he is with the situation so as to not make any similarly imprudent decisions in the future. 

“Excellent,” Seteth wore a relieved smile. “Claude is moving in as we speak; you can introduce yourself to him after class. You are dismissed,” the admin shuffled the stack of papers on his desk and returned to filling out whatever document he had been working on before Lorenz arrived. 

Having already been forgotten in favour of paperwork, Lorenz bid Seteth good day and stalked out of the office. His day ruined, Lorenz wished he could simply skip the rest of his class and give Claude a piece of his mind. However, Lorenz was no delinquent and he refused to entertain the thought for more than a second.

He managed to catch up on what he had missed but remained in a sour mood as the lecture continued. He stared blankly at the pages of his textbook and sometime later noticed that he had reread the same paragraph six times without retaining any of its information. Professor Gilbert droned on, his voice sounding more dreary than usual and even the notes he was currently scribbling on the whiteboard seemed to fade out of existence with all the sense they made.

By the time Gilbert concluded and dismissed the class, Lorenz had learned nothing new, his mind repeatedly wandering, filled with thoughts of just _who_ Claude was and if it was possible that he’d be a respectable roommate after all.

Now that all of his classes for the day had finished, the logical course of action was to return to his dorm and find answers for all the questions swirling in his mind. Instead, Lorenz pulled out his phone and sent a message to his best friend.

> **Direct Message**   
>  **Lone 9 2:04 pm**
> 
> **Lorenz H. Gloucester:** Ferdinand, something went terribly wrong today. Would you care to meet me for tea in twenty minutes?
> 
> **Ferdinand von Aegir:** Tell me all about it, my friend! I will see you at the Tea House soon!

* * *

  
  
“And then,” Lorenz ranted, waving around his rose-infused bubble tea, “Seteth told me that I effectively had no choice in the matter. None at all!”

“That is rather unfortunate,” Ferdinand mused, stirring his mango flavoured drink with his straw. 

“Indeed! What’s more, I am not sure what to make of Claude’s so-called ‘unique circumstances’. Doesn’t he know that Garreg Mach Academy is an institute of the highest class? Passing his classes will prove almost impossible after enrolling now, of all times.”

“I do not know what that could mean either but yes, he will surely be disadvantaged. But I do not think it is all bad. For you nor for Claude.”

“How do you mean?” Lorenz asked sceptically. The two young men were very similar, which was why they got along so well, but even they sometimes held different perspectives on a certain topic. Lorenz often commended Ferdinand for his optimism but preferred to consider himself more of a realist. “This situation is beyond bad, it is outrageous!”

“You have not met this person yet,” Ferdinand pointed out, gesturing with his cup. “It is true he may turn out to be an utter nightmare for you but he may also be a hardworking, noble individual whom you will gain a lifelong friend in. Do you not agree?”

Lorenz sighed. “I suppose you are right.” Now that he had allowed himself this time to reflect on the situation, he realised he really had been acting rather shamefully.

“Indeed,” Ferdinand agreed. He paused to take a sip of his drink. “I have faith all is not lost. Do try to befriend Claude, will you?”

“Yes yes, mother,” Lorenz waved a hand, smiling at Ferdinand’s hearty chuckle. He would not usually make such jokes, especially around the other students whom he needed to maintain a sophisticated image around, but he made an exception for Ferdinand. The two had remained trusted friends for many years and Lorenz found himself thankful for Ferdinand’s advice, feeling more relaxed than he had all day.

“It is good to see you smiling again, Lorenz,” Ferdinand interjected, starting Lorenz out of his train of thought. “I was rather worried when I saw your message earlier, and even more so when you walked in here. You looked tenser than when Dorothea slapped you for trying to kiss her at Sylvain’s house party last year!”

Lorenz winced. “Thank you for that reminder,” he shot a pointed look to Ferdinand who could only smile sheepishly. “But yes, it is true that I feel more at ease after hearing your thoughts.”

“I am always happy to be of assistance!” Ferdinand beamed, clearly proud of himself.

“Now that’s enough about me. Tell me how your vampire of a roommate has been faring lately.”

* * *

His conversation with Ferdinand had been productive and Lorenz left the Tea House fully energised and with a new perspective. As he walked the short distance back to the campus, he now knew what needed to be done. He would keep an open mind, and introduce himself and welcome Claude to Garreg Mach like a gentleman.

The dormitories for this area of the campus housed hundreds of students, studying many subjects from economics to politics to mathematics and science. Lorenz was rarely lucky enough for his floor, let alone general vicinity, to be quiet enough to allow him to relax but it certainly wasn’t usually this earsplittingly loud either. As soon as the elevator doors opened, a thunderous racket could be heard from down the hall that was reminiscent of the parties frequently thrown after exams or graduation. 

Lorenz was sure the elevator was broken again and had somehow taken him to the wrong floor but as he made his way further down the hall and eventually found himself in front of his own door, muffled yet raucous chatter and laughter pouring out from behind, he found his patience rapidly slipping away. He remembered Ferdinand’s words but now felt that he didn’t even need to meet Claude to detest him if _this_ was what he liked to do.

He had a key and was perfectly capable of letting himself in but instead, knocked loudly on the door. To his surprise, most of the noise, save music that probably had people on the other side of the campus covering their ears, died down immediately and a moment later, the door opened.

A young man whom he had never seen before, with wild brown hair and clad in a casual yellow hoodie, stared back at him with an easy smile and a glint in his forest-green eyes. Behind him, Lorenz noticed two familiar figures, one splayed across his bed for some reason, the other sitting spread-eagled on what appeared to be a beanbag chair that wasn’t there that morning. A wireless speaker sat on the floor between the two beds, blaring music that could hardly be called music as much as a cacophony. Lorenz’s eyes widened in shock and disbelief. 

How could a mere three people produce such noise? And how dare they cause such noise in his own room, while lying on his own bed?

“Oh, it’s just Lorenz. Let him in, he doesn’t bite. Usually,” Hilda remarked, sliding off the bed, _his_ bed, and joining the unfamiliar man at the door.

“And if he does, you can guarantee he’ll get what’s coming to him,” Sylvain added with a smirk. He picked up the speaker and turned the volume down to a somewhat more bearable level then set it down on the spare bed’s nightstand.

Lorenz bristled at the stranger, pointedly ignoring the jabs. “What in the world are you all doing?” He bit out.

“I’m Claude von Riegan,” the man who answered the door said instead of answering his question. He stuck his hand out. “Guess I’m your new roomie.”

“ _Charmed_ ,” Lorenz said, eyes narrowed with suspicion and distaste that he did not deem worth hiding. He seized Claude’s hand and shook once with an iron grip. “My name is Lorenz Hellman Gloucester. You will want to remember it if we are to remain stuck here together for the next two years.”

Forcing himself past Claude, his talk with Ferdinand forgotten, Lorenz wrinkled his nose in disgust at the state of the room. Snacks and sugary drinks were strewn about and almost all of Claude’s belongings that had been moved in either had no place in a dorm at a prestigious academy or were outright banned by faculty. Among them, Lorenz spied the beanbag, a video game console connected to a medium-sized TV, a lava lamp, a coffee maker and even a mini-fridge. The room was entirely unrecognisable and Lorenz’s sensible possessions seemed few and far between in comparison. How had this band of delinquents even gotten all of this junk in here undetected in the first place?

“Stuck here? Well, aren’t you just a bundle of joy,” Claude closed the door and edged past Lorenz, collapsing onto his bed. Hilda and Sylvain followed, each reclaiming their spots on Lorenz’s bed and the beanbag.

Lorenz sputtered indignantly at the absurdity of the situation. “Hilda, get off my bed. And Claude, you did not answer my question. Just what do you all think you’re doing in here, making such a horrid commotion and filling my room with useless objects?”

Hilda pouted, rolling off his bed and flopping down onto Claude’s instead. “Well, jeez. The one time you get a girl in your bed, you kick her out. No wonder you can’t get a date,” she joked, prompting uproarious laughter from Sylvain. Lorenz scowled, flushing slightly at the embarrassingly crude statement. At least Claude had the sense to ignore it.

“We’re just having a nice, little moving-in party. Care to join us? Pizza should be arriving in, like, ten minutes,” Claude folded his arms behind his head, the annoyingly casual action almost like a taunt. “Oh, and I hate to break it to you, but it’s _our_ room now. I told you before, we’re roommates now. You’re just gonna have to get used to it, sunshine.”

“How wasteful. You have all this garbage lying around,” Lorenz punctuated the complaint by nudging an unopened bag of potato chips lying on the floor with his foot, “and you thought it wise to order more?” The three looked amongst themselves, exchanging silent looks. “Don’t answer that. I forbid you to eat such a disgusting, greasy mess in this room. Take your unhealthy food and drinks and use the dining hall for its intended purpose.”

“Lorenz, don't talk shit,” Sylvain began, pointing a finger at him in accusation. “Hardly anyone, much less you, actually eats in the dining hall anymore and you know it. Not since Annette blew the place up that time.” 

“Someone actually did that? Garreg Mach sounds like a real lively place,” Claude said in awe.

Lorenz buried his head in his hands, feeling rather like he was babysitting a trio of toddlers. “Please, I do not care where you go. As long as you simply leave so I can get some work done,” he pleaded.

Hilda made a show of groaning dramatically before peeling herself off of Claude’s bed. “ _Fine_ ,” she complained, dragging the word out obnoxiously like a child.

Sylvain followed, bending down to scoop up the bag of chips that lie by Lorenz’s foot. He tore them open and shoved a handful in his mouth. “Wonder what’s his problem? He’s saltier than these chips,” he quipped, almost unintelligible but just coherent enough to send Hilda into a fit of giggles.

“You guys go on ahead. I’ll meet you in the rec room with the pizza,” Claude called as they left. The door closed and the room quieted, save, again, for that irritating speaker. Lorenz imagined himself punting it out the window. The thought was so satisfying he almost missed when Claude began speaking again. “Those guys are really fun, you should try to be nicer to them.”

“I do not need suggestions from _you_ ,” Lorenz spat, eyes narrowed.

“Sheesh, someone’s cranky. What’d I ever do to you, huh?” Claude sounded affronted, folding his arms and putting on a mock pout. Somehow, he had already picked up on Hilda’s tricks and that only spelled disaster for Lorenz’s future.

“Claude, why are you even here?” Lorenz said by way of an answer. “What sort of ‘unique circumstances’ could possibly have landed you here with the misfortune of being _my_ roommate?”

For a moment, Claude said nothing, merely sitting and staring with a blank, unimpressed look on his face. Then his phone chimed and he glanced down at it, then stood up and made for the door. “Pizza’s here! See you later, Lorenz. Don’t wait up.”

Lorenz opened his mouth to politely inform Claude that he had no such intentions but the door closed before he had the chance to. Thankfully, Claude at least had the decency to mute the speaker and shove it in his pocket before leaving.

So, _that_ was his new roommate.

Sociable and informal, with the laidback attitude of a slacker, Claude had a noticeable gleam in his eye that seemed to suggest that he was perpetually up to no good. He already had connections with two of the worst possible influences the student body could offer; Hilda, the lazy and irresponsible girl with no work ethic to speak of and Sylvain, who tried valiantly to bed anything that moved and then boast about it the next day. Claude had quickly befriended such people and somehow, within a few short hours, was laughing and chatting jovially with them as if they were old friends who hadn’t seen each other in years. He had a certain charisma that others might even perceive as friendliness. He was a charmer, a people-pleaser, so to speak. 

But Lorenz saw right through the act and he despised the empty words Claude tossed around. Deep down, Claude was a good-for-nothing who didn’t belong at this academy, or anywhere near Lorenz. He quickly decided he would need to find a new place to study, away from this man and whatever ‘friends’ he would be making in the near future. Somewhere far, like the campus library or perhaps even off-campus. 

Lorenz was certain now; Claude was everything he had been dreading and more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to my buddies Caps, Sai and Dawn in the Fanfic Writers Guild discord for beta reading and giving me feedback!


	2. The Thorn in my Side

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a few days pass with little change, Lorenz receives some useful advice from a friend of a friend.

Silence enveloped the room.

For a moment, Lorenz simply stood frowning at the door, not sure what to do with himself. He briefly deliberated whether he should tidy the room up as he despised a disorganised space but refused to clean up Claude’s mess for him. 

Left with little else to do, he sat down at the desk at the foot of his bed, produced his laptop, textbook and class notes and began revising.The hours slipped away without notice and Lorenz remained unaware that it had gotten dark until Claude returned several hours later.

“I told you not to wait up,” he said, flicking the overhead light on and unceremoniously sauntering into the room as if he were already completely comfortable living there. “Have you seriously been studying this whole time? I left, like, six hours ago, you know.”

Lorenz paused for a moment, his overworked eyes straining to adjust to the sudden brightness in the room. “Yes, the afternoon has been quite productive. Though, that will no doubt cease now that you’re here,” he sneered. He saw with some alarm that it was indeed nearing 10 pm and shut his laptop, packing his belongings away for tomorrow.

“Ooh, terribly sorry about that. Are you gonna be okay?” Claude punctuated the obvious fake concern in his voice by laying a hand on Lorenz’s shoulder. The hand was quickly shrugged off and Claude snickered. “Also, pardon my speaking out of line, Your Highness, but are you this nasty to everyone or do I get special privileges?” 

“The latter, it would seem, as few others have earned my scorn in quite the same way that you have,” Lorenz answered genuinely.

The gleam was back in Claude’s eye. Inviting him, daring him. “And why is that?”

“I am thrilled that you asked,” Lorenz stood up from his desk chair to look Claude directly in the eye. “I do not trust you one bit, nor do I think you belong here. Someone of your nature - lackadaisical, careless, irresponsible even - has no place at Garreg Mach. This academy prides itself on honour, respect and diligence and suffice it to say that you do not fit that image. Furthermore, you appear from seemingly nowhere, a _year_ after classes have already commenced and expect to meticulously blend in and avoid the gaze of both students and faculty? No, I will not allow it. You should not have come here, Claude, and I am not afraid to say so.”

Claude didn’t immediately answer, taking a moment to survey Lorenz with a smug grin plastered on his face. “I suppose now’s a bad time to ask for directions to our business applications class tomorrow morning?”

“Excuse me? _Our_?” Lorenz rubbed his temple, feeling a headache coming on.

“Yep, knew you weren’t gonna like that.”

“What interest could _you_ have in business and economics?”

“Well, Lorenz, I have big dreams just like you.”

“I hope you are aware that you will need to work extremely hard to make up for lost time. You would do well to stop wasting time fraternising with your new companions.”

“Thanks for the tip. Now about that class—“

“If you truly cannot find your own way there, then I will lead the way. But after tomorrow, it will not happen again and I will not hesitate to leave without you if you are not awake and prepared in time. Now if you’ll excuse me, I must retire for the night.”

Lorenz retrieved his toiletries case and was about to leave when Claude’s voice stopped him. “Wait. Have you eaten anything since I left earlier? I mean, it doesn’t look like it since you apparently stayed in that same spot for a good six hours.”

It was then that Lorenz realised he hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast that morning and actually was feeling quite hungry. He had a rather small appetite and often found himself skipping meals but rarely found it affected him or his well-being. But if he ate something this late at night, it would surely keep him up later and he would be forced to endure Claude’s presence for even longer. “I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself and my needs, thank you. And while we’re on the subject of taking care of things, do consider showing some responsibility and tidying up your clutter.”

“Changing the subject, eh? How very telling. Alright, have fun starving during the night. That’ll show me.”

Lorenz suppressed a groan of frustration and left the room before either of them could say anything more. 

The communal bathrooms were usually in a better state than Lorenz expected was capable of a space shared by so many people, but he still preferred to spend as little time there as possible. Morning or night, he usually spent less than ten minutes there per trip. Tonight, however, was an exception and he found himself reflecting as he stared into the mirror.

His day had been quite turbulent; from the unpleasant and unwanted surprise from Seteth that had ruined his day before it was even midday to the uplifting discussion with Ferdinand and finally, to the moment his hopes were dashed when he met Claude.

He remembered what he had ruefully said to Seteth that morning. “I suppose I will simply have to tolerate this Claude.”

He would have scoffed if he wasn’t currently brushing his teeth. It had become glaringly obvious that Claude was not someone he could ever trust or ‘befriend’, as Ferdinand had naively suggested, and Lorenz wondered if he would ever be able to tolerate simply being in the same room as the incorrigible man without wanting to tear his hair out in frustration. However, such despairing thoughts would surely interfere with his sleep so he refused to dwell on it any longer and instead resolved to put this awful day behind him.

Leaving the bathroom, he returned to find Claude with his back to the doorway, folding up clothing of some sort. He had switched the overhead light off and his lava lamp on, bathing the room in an odd yellow-orange hue. He had also gotten changed in the meantime, now wearing a plain yellow shirt virtually identical to the hoodie he donned earlier and striped black and yellow pyjama pants. Downright childish compared to his own elegant, silk pyjamas and Lorenz suppressed an eye roll at the observation. Surprisingly, most of Claude’s belongings had also been cleared up, placed somewhere out of sight or moved away from Lorenz’s side of the room. He would have been impressed if young children weren’t also capable of tidying their own rooms without issue.

The time after was spent in relative silence as they readied themselves for bed, and when Claude said an empty goodnight shortly after, Lorenz pretended he was already asleep.

* * *

When Lorenz woke in the morning, it was to a horrid whirring noise drilling into his ears. Sitting up and straining his tired eyes to focus on the source he mumbled groggily, “What in the Goddess’s name is that infernal sound?” He began peeling himself from his sheets, ignoring the way that Claude was watching him from over his shoulder with a hint of amusement.

“Good morning to you too, Sleeping Beauty. Not a morning person, I take it?” Claude was already bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, dressed in the same yellow hoodie from yesterday and a pair of plain black sweatpants.

“I enjoy mornings just fine when I wake naturally. Not when forcibly roused out of slumber by the sound of a jet plane taking off,” Lorenz brushed a hand down his face in discomfort. He wasn’t used to being seen by others first thing in the morning and he was certain he looked atrocious. 

Claude barked a laugh and turned around to face him fully. He held a coffee mug in his left hand. “Gods, you’re overdramatic. It’s just the coffee maker. I’ll make you some if you want, you look like you need it.”

“No, thank you. I prefer tea,” Lorenz sensed that any further attempts at rest would be fruitless now that Claude was awake. He stood up straight, stretched out his limbs and unplugged his phone from where it lay resting on his nightstand. 6:42. Twenty minutes before he would normally have risen.

“Of course you do. Oh, by the way, I scoped out from Dimitri that class starts in about two hours, so make sure you’re up and at ‘em or I will not hesitate to leave without you,” he gave a lopsided grin, clearly relishing in having thrown Lorenz’s words back at him. He then turned his attention back to the coffee maker, swore under his breath and walked briskly out the door. “Be right back. Gonna get some sugar from Hilda.”

Lorenz watched him leave in a sleep-clouded confusion. Claude was acting as if Lorenz hadn’t made his feelings about him perfectly clear last night. Having contempt, suspicion and distaste be met with jokes, sarcasm and general indifference was disconcerting, almost eerie. Claude was an easygoing person by nature, that much had become abundantly clear, but something about his behaviour felt wrong. It was as if Claude was used to taking such harsh treatment in stride. Perhaps he had even been expecting it.

No, Lorenz was surely imagining things. Either Claude was tormenting Lorenz just for the fun of it or he was simply a bumbling fool. He shook his head. No matter. It was far too early in the morning to lose himself in pointless speculation. He should be getting ready for class. And so, he began his morning routine.

First, he showered and brushed his teeth. Then he returned to his room to dress in his usual button-up, blazer, dress pants and tie and brushed his hair. By now, it was nearing 8 o’clock, and just when Lorenz was applying his favourite cologne, Claude returned.

“Ugh. That stuff sure is strong,” he coughed loudly and waved an arm around to clear the air. “Do girls actually like that?”

“The ladies find both me and my scent irresistible, I assure you,” Lorenz preened, giving Claude a patronising smile in the reflection of his hand mirror. “In fact, I’d wager that you could learn a thing or two from me,” he jumped at the loud peals of laughter suddenly escaping from his roommate and pursed his lips in irritation. “Do not laugh at that, Claude.”

“Oh, you were serious,” Claude resumed his inelegant guffawing and let out a sigh once he had calmed down. “It’s dangerous to make a man laugh like that when he’s pouring hot coffee, you know.”

“As I said yesterday, I do not care for suggestions from you. Also, won’t you please hurry up? Class begins in one hour and I must take some time to drop by the cafeteria for breakfast.”

Lorenz watched with exasperation as Claude tore open a sugar packet with his teeth, dumped the contents in his mug and left the empty packet by the coffee pot. He then whirled around, heaved his backpack onto his shoulders and shoved his phone and earbuds in his pocket. “Alright, alright, let’s go.” 

* * *

As soon as the two arrived at Class B10 for business applications, Claude disappeared and Lorenz soon spotted him talking animatedly with a young man and woman resembling the two honour students known by almost everyone across the campus. Lorenz would have to demand an explanation later. Claude befriending Hilda and Sylvain was believable. Regrettable, but believable. Dimitri and Edelgard as well? Unbelievable and highly suspicious. They were sensible, intelligent, mature, charismatic. Everything Claude decidedly was not. 

Before he could allow himself to become too enamoured in his pondering, Ferdinand sat down next to him.

“Good morning, Lorenz!” He smiled, as chipper as ever. “Tell me how your meeting with Claude went yesterday! What is he like?”

“I do not know how long I can endure him,” Lorenz murmured woefully, one hand worrying at his temple. “Yesterday was abhorrent and Claude is completely intolerable. It was even worse than I’d feared.”

“Oh! That sounds rather terrible. What in the world has he done?” 

Before Lorenz could answer, Professor Hanneman entered and class began. Much of the lecture that followed was relatively uneventful and Lorenz almost found himself settling into the monotony of copying notes from the projector screen when Hanneman began speaking.

“Today I will be handing out a new group assignment for you to complete. You have the rest of today’s lesson to partner up in groups of two or three and begin preparations. Additionally, the next two weeks of class time will be spent working on this assignment. The rest must be completed in your own time until it is due in exactly three weeks.”

Lorenz felt a sense of unease wash over him. Normally he didn’t mind partner or group projects; due to his intelligence and dedication he would complete his assigned work regardless of circumstance. But as he spied Claude craning his head around to search the room from several rows ahead, Lorenz felt a pit open in his stomach. He pretended to busy himself with typing on his laptop until the chair in front of him was pulled out and a person sat down. 

“Hey there, Lorenz,” Claude sounded defeated even before asking the question Lorenz knew was on his mind.

“No, Claude, I do not want to be your business partner, especially since you’re now associating with Dimitri and Edelgard of all people. How, pray tell, did that occur?”

Claude blinked in surprise. “Uh… what? First of all, that’s not what I wanted to ask. Second, that’s none of your business. I can talk to whoever I want. Third, I’m ‘associating’ with them because they’re friendly and welcoming, unlike a certain someone I know. And fourth, I actually mentioned earlier I had been chatting to Dimitri and you didn't seem to care."

"I— well. My wits must not have been about me so shortly after I awoke. But on all other counts, I do not believe you. Those two are the very pictures of refinement, something that you, clearly, are not. What sort of dirty, underhanded tactics have you employed to attract their interest?” Lorenz’s eyes narrowed. He felt Ferdinand’s wide eyes on him, likely just as interested in exposing Claude as Lorenz himself was.

Claude’s brows furrowed slightly in what appeared to be impatience. “Think whatever you want, cause I clearly can’t stop you. I just came to ask if I can borrow your room key so I can have my new friends and group partners Dimitri and Edelgard over when class is finished.”

“What happened to your key?”

Claude rubbed his neck bashfully. “I might have left it at Hilda’s when I went to get sugar earlier.”

Lorenz sighed, burying his face in one hand. “Such negligence…” he murmured to himself. “No, you may not. As I said last night, you would do well to show some responsibility from time to time.”

“Cool, thanks. Always a pleasure, sunshine,” Claude huffed, rolling his eyes. Then he left, leaving his seat ajar and reclaimed his previous one.

“Erm… that was Claude? Your roommate, Claude?” Ferdinand asked, confusion colouring his face and tone.

“Indeed. Utterly frustrating, isn’t he?” Lorenz shook his head in distaste. “How does one lose their own room key less than a day after moving in? Not to mention the crude way he spoke to me.”

“Making such a mistake so soon after coming to Garreg Mach is certainly less than ideal but I do not think I would go that far. He seemed rather... normal. Amicable and earnest. Until you denied his request, that is,” there was an odd lilt to Ferdinand’s voice. Sympathy? Or perhaps pity?

“Dear Goddess, he’s fooled you too…” Lorenz gaped at his best friend in horror.

“No no, I have not been fooled! What exactly do you mean by that?” Ferdinand looked at him like he had two heads.

“Isn’t it obvious? He’s blatantly untrustworthy! Do you not find it suspicious that Claude has been a student here for less than a day but has somehow already found companions in two of the most admired students here?”

“Edelgard seems to have many friends, to be sure,” something flashed in Ferdinand’s expression, there one moment, gone the next, “I do not blame him for gravitating towards her.”

“Or how about his demeanour? Do you not feel that his informality, his complete carelessness, is ill-befitting of a student here?”

“I understand your perspective, really, I do. He may not be the type of person I would venture to spend time with either. But just because he is different from you, that does not make him worthy of suspicion or disdain, Lorenz. Perhaps you simply got off on the wrong foot. I would suggest you give him a chance and hear him out.”

“Nonsense," Lorenz said stubbornly. “You may not see it but it is clear as day to me that Claude is a scoundrel who has come to Garreg Mach to uproot my life as I know it.” 

Beside him, Ferdinand sighed, conceding. “If you are certain. Now, when shall we begin working on this task, partner?”

“Quite soon, I should think, since even Claude has the sense to begin planning group study sessions.”

“And he is partners with Edelgard, is he not? If she has begun already, then we have no time to waste!”

* * *

The pair’s spare time for the remaining three days of the week was spent brainstorming on their business plans. Their task was to create and outline a business concept, including premise, funding and plans for expansion; a topic the two were intimately familiar with due to the first-hand experience they had gained working with their respective fathers. The concept they had decided on was a system to bridge the gap between fortunate and less fortunate, though they had not determined how they could make their idea a reality.

Claude, as ever, remained a pest and Lorenz did his best to pretend he wasn’t there. However, that wasn’t always possible and Lorenz frequently found himself arguing while Claude responded with levity, any outward signs of resentment from earlier in the week forgotten. Once Friday came, Lorenz decided to reward himself for an overall successful and productive week, despite his less than ideal circumstances, and agreed to get lunch with Ferdinand.

The two friends drank tea and shared a plate of pastries, basking in sunlight from the cozy outdoor café tables. After a while, Ferdinand suddenly perked up, his eyes focused behind Lorenz where it seemed someone was approaching.

“Oh, I almost forgot. I have a friend you must meet! She is a charming, noble person, just as we are, you will adore her!” Ferdinand said excitedly, waving somebody over. “Constance, over here!”

A blonde woman appeared, sitting down next to Ferdinand. She appeared unusually downtrodden, avoiding eye contact and speaking in a soft voice almost inaudible over the café ambience. “My sincerest apologies in having made you and your companion wait, Ferdinand,” she turned to Lorenz. “I am Constance von Nuvelle. It is an honour to make your acquaintance, though I am certain you will not feel the same.”

“Erm… My name is Lorenz Hellman Gloucester,” his usual calmness was replaced by bewilderment as he briefly hesitated in offering his hand for her to shake. This was Ferdinand’s charming, noble friend? This shy, pessimistic young woman?

“Do not worry; I am glad to see you. Stay here, I will order you some tea!” In an instant, Ferdinand was gone, leaving Lorenz alone with this strange woman.

“I apologise for interrupting what I am sure was a lovely outing between two friends,” Constance murmured, shrinking into her chair. 

“Oh no, do not apologise. Ferdinand seemed rather excited for me to meet you,” Lorenz suddenly felt rather awkward and hoped it wasn’t manifesting in his face or tone.

“Truly? I cannot fathom why. There is little that I could possibly have contributed to your conversation and little I could have done to improve your day.”

“Constance, why are you berating yourself? I sense a certain refined beauty within you that you do not seem to be aware of yourself,” Lorenz offered, attempting to comfort her as best he could.

“Oh! Such kindness, of which I am wholly undeserving. Surely there are other women out there more deserving of your advances than I,” if it were possible, Constance’s eyes seemed to darken further, remaining fixed on the table between them.

“Ah, um— that wasn’t quite what I—“

“Here you are, Constance! I got your favourite, sweet berry flavoured!” Ferdinand returned, holding out a cup for Constance to take while placing down a tray of drinks for himself and Lorenz.

“Oh my, you shouldn’t have. To what do I owe this kind favour?” Constance seemed apprehensive to take the drink but seemed to eventually decide that not accepting it would be rude and took a small sip.

“I simply wanted your opinion on something, if I may. Lorenz has been having a rather hard time of late and I thought your insight could be of particular value to him,” Lorenz gave Ferdinand a questioning look but his friend remained oblivious. Had he planned this?

“Oh, dear. I am afraid you have come to the wrong person. I am not equipped to help solve the problems of my peers, especially since I cannot seem to handle even my own.” 

“Nonsense. Lorenz, tell her about Claude.”

“Claude... If you can find it in your hearts to forgive me for this interruption, I believe I have heard that name before,” Constance cradled the warm cup of tea to her chest, still avoiding looking at the two men. Lorenz found himself wondering how Ferdinand could have ever have met and become acquainted with such a miserable being.

“You have?” Lorenz said abruptly. “Ahem, pardon me. Do you know of him? He is my roommate and an ever-present thorn in my side.”

“I have not met him myself, but I believe my dear friend Balthus has crossed paths with someone by the name of Claude. He did not seem to be very pleased afterwards but I felt it was not my place to ask the reason why, so I refrained from doing so. I deeply regret that I cannot tell you more.”

“I assure you, you have been most helpful,” Ferdinand smiled warmly at her. 

“Indeed. It is quite relieving to know that someone else on this campus has not managed to fall victim to his deception," Lorenz agreed. "You would do well to stay away from him yourself. Who knows how barbarous he would treat a soft, gentle flower such as yourself.”

“A waste of breath, to flatter one such as me,” Constance turned her head to gaze forlornly across the courtyard.

“Lorenz certainly has his own methods of enduring Claude’s presence but I am most curious as to what you would do, Constance, when faced with this sort of situation. If you and your roommate hated each other sincerely and could not get along, no matter what.” Lorenz shot Ferdinand another questioning look that, again, went ignored.

“You wish to hear my thoughts on this matter?” She paused. “I am certain that I would simply wilt and perish without delay if Hapi ever despised me in the way you describe but I would nevertheless strive to extend as much kindness to her as I possibly could. Though, of course, neither Hapi nor Claude nor anyone else is obligated to accept any such gestures from me, that would not dissuade me from extending my hospitality, in the event that she would someday come to tolerate my occupancy,” after she finished she paused again, letting the two men digest her words. Then she caught a glimpse of her watch, eyes widening imperceptibly. “It appears I have overstayed my welcome. I am sincerely sorry for taking up so much of your precious time. Farewell.”

The two men said their goodbyes to Constance and after she had left, Lorenz turned to Ferdinand. “Forgive me, but she is rather… peculiar. Quite different from the elegant young lady you had described, might I add.”

Ferdinand grimaced. “Yes, her demeanour changes drastically when she is in the sun. I do not know why; after many years she still refuses to tell me. But that is not why I brought you both here. There is something I feel I must point out, if I may. I noticed that you almost immediately offered kind words to her upon noticing her downcast mood, even though she was, and largely still is, a stranger to you. Yet you appear to not have made any such attempts to mend the rift between you and Claude.”

Lorenz balked at the inaneness of the statement. “Naturally. It is my duty, as a man of class, to treat the ladies as a proper gentleman would. This includes supporting and uplifting them when they are down so that they may go on to become better people.”

“And I, of course, commend the kindness you show when speaking to the opposite sex. But why have you not tried to treat Claude the same way?” Ferdinand asked, gesturing with his cup in a placating manner. “I am sure it would not hurt at the very least.” 

“Claude is not a woman, nor has he been in any need of guidance from me,” Lorenz pointed out, unsure where the discussion was leading. “He is perfectly content to be an inconvenience at best and an utter headache at worst and I sincerely doubt that will change no matter how I speak to him.”

“Yes, I thought you might say something like that. But I am of the firm belief that all people are deserving of kindness, even, and especially, if they are different to yourself. How can you be certain that Claude would not appreciate the compassion I know you are capable of showing when you do not attempt to extend it to him?” 

"But I have shown kindness to him. I showed him where our class was today, did I not?"

Ferdinand frowned, suddenly looking deadly serious. "You know that does not suffice," momentarily, his eyes softened. "Please Lorenz, I would very much like you to try. I know it may seem impossible but I guarantee the universe will reward you. You never know where a decision such as this may lead you."

Lorenz stilled, not having a good retort. “I confess I had never thought of that. I see,” he paused again, weighing his options. Was this truly a viable course of action? Could the solution to their feud truly be this simple? Lorenz was far too prideful to come to such a conclusion himself but if his best friend whom he trusted dearly had encouraged it then perhaps it was worth a try. “Very well. If you wholeheartedly think that my efforts would not be for naught, then… I will consider it.”

Had he made the right choice? The cheerful smile of the man sitting before him told him he had. Ferdinand was right; things couldn’t possibly be worse between him and Claude.

Left with much weighing on his mind, Lorenz finished his tea then bid goodbye to his friend and headed back to his room. 

* * *


	3. Unreasonable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After an argument with Claude gets out of hand, Lorenz takes a good look at himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AUTHOR’S NOTE: As of 12th September 2020, the line “How dare Claude lunge at him like an animal” has been changed to “How dare Claude lunge at him so brusquely”. This is to avoid any unwanted racial implications that I did not think about initially. I’m sorry to any readers who may have been upset by my word choice. Going forward, I’ll try to be much more conscientious. Happy reading!

An unwelcome sense of dread consumed Lorenz as he emerged from the elevator onto his floor.

He found himself thinking back to Monday and how things had changed since then. Remembering the immense disappointment and dismay he felt hearing the lively chatter coming from his room a mere five days ago, he now felt ill at ease as an ominous silence greeted him. The area was certainly quiet but it somehow felt… too quiet.

Ignoring the odd thought, Lorenz pressed forward and entered his room. Amidst the almost complete silence, he expected Claude to be off with his friends, engaging in horseplay somewhere else. He certainly didn’t expect to see _five_ people packed into the small room, studying quietly amongst themselves like this was some sort of routine event for the group.

Amongst them, Lorenz spied Edelgard and Dimitri occupying the two desks on opposite sides of the room. The former was shadowed by a lanky man whom Lorenz recognised as Ferdinand’s roommate and the latter was absorbed in quiet discussion with the largest person Lorenz had ever seen awkwardly perched cross-legged on Claude’s bed. Upon closer inspection, Lorenz noticed that Hubert was sitting at the foot of his own bed, as close as he could get to Edelgard as possible. His eye twitched. What in the world was causing the sudden influx of near-strangers thinking it appropriate to make themselves at home on his bed? The answer was currently slouching on his beanbag, typing furiously on a laptop resting on his stretched-out legs.

Stepping further into the room, Lorenz noticed with some irritation that only Edelgard and Hubert had seemed to notice him, their piercing eyes flicking quickly to him before lowering, almost uncannily in sync, back to their respective tasks.

Lorenz loudly cleared his throat. “Claude. What is going on here?”

“Aah! What the— oh, it’s just you,” Claude, completely engrossed with whatever he was typing, jumped before composing himself. “Well, what does it look like? We’re working on our business project. And we’re kind of on a roll here so do you mind coming back later?”

Unsatisfied with his answer, Lorenz planted one hand on his hip and quirked a brow. “Really? Correct me if I am wrong, but I believe Professor Hanneman specified groups of two or three for this assignment. And it would appear that there are _five_ of you here. Furthermore, _they_ ,” Lorenz gestured to Dimitri’s enormous companion and Hubert, “are not in our class. Why are they here? And for future reference, do pay attention to how you speak to me. I will not tolerate being ordered around by the likes of you.”

Dimitri turned around in his chair, a look of faint hurt crossing his face. “Are Dedue and I unwelcome here? Please excuse us, we didn’t anticipate that our presence would displease you so.”

“My apologies for intruding. If you desire it, I will leave,” Dedue boomed, his sharp, steely gaze belying the traces of resignation in his tone.

“Please do,” Lorenz affirmed at the same time Claude interjected with “No, don’t”. Hubert chuckled to himself at the exchange but he and Edelgard otherwise ignored the events and the rapidly changing atmosphere.

“Lorenz, don’t be a dick. We’re just studying. Do you seriously have a problem with that?” Claude set his laptop aside, standing up to stare down Lorenz in the centre of the room.

“As a matter of fact, I do,” Lorenz countered. “I do not appreciate you constantly inviting large groups of people here without my knowledge. Frankly, I do not care whether you’re sitting around wasting time or actually doing something worthwhile. You ought to think about someone other than yourself and consider how it feels for me to return here after a long day, only to find an entire classroom worth of people inhabiting my space.”

“One thing that it’s crazy that you still don’t understand is that this is my room too. It’s just as much your room as it is mine. So why don’t I get a say in what I do here and with who? Why do you get to boss me around but I’m not allowed to retaliate?” Claude argued, his tone remaining relatively cool despite the chagrin written on his face.

“Erm… Should we leave?” Dimitri said in a small voice, rubbing his neck in discomfort.

“Yes, that’s probably a good idea. There’s no real work to be done in a space rife with distractions,” Edelgard added, the first thing she had said since Lorenz arrived.

“Sure, do what you will,” Claude said in a clipped tone, running a hand down his face. “I have no idea how long Lorenz is gonna keep being unreasonable for. Go to the library or something so that you don’t have to see in case it gets ugly and I’ll catch up later.”

The small group shuffled out quietly, leaving the air inside the room tense and suffocating. As soon as the door closed behind them, Lorenz continued his tirade. “Me, unreasonable? Ah, now that is hilarious.”

Claude chuckled humourlessly, his face still buried in one hand. “Lorenz, I hate to break it to you but you _are_ being unreasonable,” he looked up and stared Lorenz dead in the eye, his face morphed into something serious and unrecognisable. Lorenz opened his mouth to counter but closed it in surprise upon seeing how _livid_ his normally jovial, carefree roommate looked. “On Monday, when you kicked out Hilda and Sylvain, that was understandable. I didn’t _like_ it but at least it made sense. You didn’t like us being loud and having fun around your high-and-mighty self. Fine, sure, whatever.

“But just now? We were doing homework. That’s all. Researching for a group project that you know we’re not lying about because you’re in the same damn class! And you may not have personally kicked them out this time, but they still left as a direct result of you coming in here and making a big deal over nothing. Honestly, Lorenz, what part of ‘I yelled at my roommate for being a decent student in his room until his group partners left’ isn’t unreasonable to you?”

Lorenz had no answer, too shocked by Claude’s sudden boldness to formulate a response. The indignance at being spoken to, or more accurately, _shouted at_ , in such a way soon set in and Lorenz took a step forward in challenge. “Please cease your childish temper tantrum. I’ll have you know, I have my reasons for acting as ‘unreasonable’ as you claim.”

“Yeah? Care to enlighten me?” Accepting the challenge, Claude too stalked closer until he was close enough to throw a punch.

“Since it’s clear I am stuck with you, I thought it would be prudent to model your shameful behaviour into that of a true student of Garreg Mach Academy. Starting, of course, with your selfish and nonchalant attitude,” Lorenz explained earnestly.

Now it was Claude’s turn to be too stunned to reply, his eyes widening in a manner that would have been humorous were they not in the middle of a heated argument. “Are you serious? Did you really think that was a good idea? A smart way to spend your time and energy?” He paused again, this time to laugh bitterly. “Tell me, did it ever occur to you that people aren’t objects for you to just… _improve_ how you see fit, just because you don’t like what you see? No, of course it didn’t, because you don’t see anything beneath the surface, do you?”

Lorenz huffed, his restraint rapidly dwindling away. “Do not turn this around on me. I was simply trying to help you, don’t you see?”

“ _Help me?_ You just barged in on my study session and made everyone else leave! Don’t you understand that you’re being totally unfair here? You get pissed off when I relax and have fun and you get pissed off when I study and act sensible. What do you want from me?”

“Your vulgarity is a prime example of what I am talking about!” Lorenz exclaimed, his voice finally beginning to rise. He was certain they could be heard from down the hall but couldn’t find it within himself to care at the moment. “I warned you earlier to consider the crude manner in which you speak to me, did I not?”

“I can’t believe I actually have to tell you this,” Claude muttered to himself, “But I’m not the least bit interested in you moulding me into what you think I should be like.”

“I beg to differ,” Lorenz said haughtily, lifting his chin to look down his nose at Claude. “With such an inelegant disposition, it is clear to me that just as you appeared from nowhere, you will surely go nowhere without my assistance.”

Lorenz could not have anticipated Claude would move so suddenly. With an enraged growl as his only warning, Lorenz was roughly grabbed by the shoulders and shoved backwards several feet. He managed to regain his balance before he could topple into the wall and turned his attention to where Claude had been. To his surprise, no one was there and the resounding slam of the door answered any questions Lorenz may have had.

Lorenz stared ahead blankly in astonishment. All week, Claude had barely reacted to Lorenz’s dislike and distrust of him. A sarcastic comment here, a generic dismissal there. Lorenz hadn’t foreseen Claude losing his temper and beginning to shout and he certainly would never have imagined that he would actually attack him. He scowled, clenching his fists. How dare he? How dare Claude lunge at him so brusquely, put his hands on him, wrinkling the shoulders of his blazer in the process, and shove him like a misbehaving child?

Pacing in circles in the room, Lorenz began to plan his next course of action. He would surely report this incident to Seteth the next day and demand that he and the faculty monitor Claude wherever possible. Lorenz would not permit a student with such unpredictable and violent tendencies to threaten his own safety and the safety of those around him. But what would come after that? The anger and indignation addling him made it rather difficult to think effectively, his mind instead bringing forth what Claude had said earlier.

_“You don’t see anything beneath the surface, do you?”_

_“Don’t you understand that you’re being totally unfair here?”_

_“What do you want from me?”_

As the piercing questions sunk in, Lorenz found himself doing something he seldom did. He began to doubt himself.

He had meant it wholeheartedly when he explained himself. Though it was uncharacteristic and unwise of him to lose his composure, it was true that Lorenz simply had Claude’s and his own best interests in mind. The world had high standards for all its people and anyone who did not possess a strong will and a stronger character was prone to getting swallowed up. It was his duty to set an example and prevent his peers from falling victim to such a cruel fate. If he had not intervened, Claude would surely doom himself to a difficult life if he continued to remain inconsiderate of his actions.

Was Claude right that Lorenz was holding him to an impossible standard? Had he been going about his goal the wrong way all along? He almost certainly had, as he had foolishly decided to instigate a private matter in front of an audience and then proceeded to anger Claude to the point where the man was entirely unable to understand the reasoning behind his actions. He had even ignored Ferdinand’s advice after he had agreed to take it. Perhaps if he had listened, or had simply conducted himself better, this conflict could have been avoided.

Although, thinking about what he could have or should have done differently was, at this point, a waste of effort. Lorenz knew he must ponder how this incident would affect him and decide what he would do to move forward. So, he sat and thought, seedlings of guilt and doubt growing in his mind.

* * *

After an hour of sitting silently in the slowly darkening room and thinking, Lorenz heard several loud knocks at the door. He stood, perhaps too quickly, and opened the door, expecting to see Claude crawling back to apologise. Instead, as many things involving Claude seemed to do, his expectations were knocked flat when he came face-to-face with Hilda and Dorothea.

“Ah! Good afternoon, ladies. Please come inside,” Lorenz recovered swiftly and ignored the way that their unsettlingly intense expressions put him on edge.

“Lorenz! So nice to see you,” Dorothea answered with mock cheer as she and Hilda followed him in. “Have you seen Claude by any chance?”

Lorenz sighed. This wasn’t boding well for him. “No, I have not. I take it you both are aware of what transpired not long ago,” he pulled out the two desk chairs for the girls and sat down on his bed. “Please, take a seat. May I offer you some tea?”

“Not interested. We just dropped by to pick up some things for Claude while he stays with some friends,” Dorothea pushed away the chair and sauntered up to Claude’s bedside drawers, peering inside at the contents. “You know, people who _don’t_ treat him like dirt,” she added, throwing him a pointed glance over her shoulder.

Lorenz blinked. His pride demanded he refute the comment and assure these ladies that Claude had most likely fed them lies. “Is he allowed to stay in a different room to his allocated one?” He asked instead.

“No,” Hilda said dismissively. She was straddling Lorenz’s chair and inspecting her nails, appearing entirely bored with the conversation though her resentful tone and expression seemed to suggest otherwise. “But he’s smart enough to avoid being caught. He said he just needs to be away from you until you learn to stop being an asshole.”

Lorenz pressed his lips together in distaste at the insult. It was no wonder Claude and Hilda had grown so close after such a short time. “I will admit that my conduct was… less than ideal. However, I hardly feel I deserve this kind of treatment from those who were not present at the time.”

“Is that what you’re most worried about here? Your ‘conduct’? Not the fact that you’ve been acting like Claude’s something on the bottom of your fanciest pair of shoes for no good reason?” Dorothea spat, standing up to advance on him threateningly.

“Yeah, you really upset him, you know. Did you ever think about that?” Hilda added, arms folded against the chair’s backrest.

“No, I had not—“

“Claude is a human being. With _feelings_ ,” Dorothea suddenly cut him off, startling him. “He’s been here for less than a week and you’ve offered him a big, kind, Garreg Mach welcome by making his living space uninhabitable with your constant hostility. Did you think about how _wrong_ that is for even a second?”

“Please, if you’ll let me explain my stance—“ Lorenz did not enjoy raising his voice at a lady but the atmosphere in the room was quickly becoming oppressive and he doubted there was any other way his voice would be heard.

“Dunno about you, ‘Thea, but I for one couldn’t care less about your stance,” Hilda interjected, now looking uncharacteristically serious. “Here’s a fun idea: we won’t leave until you understand how awful you’ve been and promise that you’ll stop, right now. Then, when the time comes, you’re gonna apologise and you’re gonna mean it.”

“What a coincidence. I completely agree. So, how about it, Lorenz?” Dorothea asked, sweet as sugar yet wholly insincere. “I know that the idea of showing some empathy and apologising to someone for hurting them might bruise your ego but alas, we all have to make sacrifices sometimes.”

Lorenz frowned and folded his arms, quickly growing tired of the sharp-tongued barbs constantly being thrown his way by the two women. But despite his impatience, he couldn’t deny that their proposal held merit. If he were in Claude’s position, he surely would not have tolerated such a show of disrespect from any of his fellow students and would have sought to exterminate the problem as soon as it appeared. After all, it was a weakness to refuse or shy away from standing up for oneself and he would not allow his reputation to be stained in such a way.

So then what, he wondered, propelled him to push Claude so hard in this short time? Why had he continued to obstruct his life beyond what was justifiable? Treat him with a harshness that was not deserved?

Regret and shame flooded him, hot and permeating, and he bowed his head, letting his shoulders slump. How could he have made such a terrible error of judgement? And in the name of his noble duty at that? It was abundantly clear that there was much he needed to say and do to rectify this mistake but where could he possibly begin?

Dorothea gasped mockingly. “Goodness. You look like you just went through the 5 stages of grief. Is that… _guilt_ I spy?”

Lorenz sighed, lifting his head somewhat but continuing to avoid eye contact so as not to see the scorn and judgement in their eyes. “Please, cease with your accursed taunts. I am humiliated enough, thanks to you both.”

“Honestly, knowing some of the nasty things you said to Claude, this is the absolute least we can do,” Hilda snickered, her smug smile audible in her voice.

“…Very well. If you happen to know where he is, please take me to him and I will… correct my mistake,” Lorenz murmured.

Hilda scoffed as if what he just said was the most inane thing she’d ever heard. “No way. You need to respect his boundaries and let him have some space. For the record, I’m not gonna tell you where he is for his own privacy, but I will say he’s not with me and Marianne so don’t even think about coming to bother us.”

“Yes, I understand. In that case, I suppose I shall simply wait for him to come back here,” Lorenz lamented, feeling utterly defeated.

Dorothea paused for a moment, levelling Lorenz with a scrutinising expression as if deciding if he was being truthful. After a moment, she relented and turned back to the drawer she had opened. “Well. As long as you've learned your lesson. I’m going to keep packing these things, then we’re going to leave you to yourself, got it?”

The sounds of Dorothea and Hilda chatting leisurely while the former heaped random assortments of Claude’s belongings into what Lorenz recognised as Claude’s backpack eventually faded into white noise. Minutes later, the door gently closed, leaving Lorenz, once again, alone with his thoughts and an uncomfortable silence blanketing him.

* * *

Despite what the two women had told him, Lorenz elected to spend the rest of the day in the comfort of his room, clinging to the hope that Claude would return. Even as afternoon turned to evening and his body begged him for energy, Lorenz waited.

He knew that he had no right to feel this way. After seeing the situation through another’s eyes, Lorenz now knew that Claude had acted largely normal, if only a mite disruptive. Meanwhile, Lorenz had ignored or even outright rejected any attempts at pleasantries from him. He prided himself on being a perfect gentleman and the son of a successful and admirable family line but how could he continue doing so knowing the dishonourable and utterly shameful way he had acted?

As his mind continued its chastising, the room began to feel small and constricting and he yearned to escape from memories replaying in his mind’s eye. Perhaps he could use this opportunity to finally answer his body’s calls for energy in the meantime.

But how could he venture out into the open and risk making a spectacle at this time? If Hilda and Dorothea had found out about the altercation so quickly, surely others must have caught wind of it by now too. Rumours would be spreading all over the campus of how terrible a roommate he was, how judgemental and severe he was behind closed doors. His reputation would without a doubt be irreparably sullied. Women would avoid him. His friends would shun him.

And yet, he couldn’t just stay there all weekend. That was simply out of the question.

After some deliberation, silence and the steadily-growing darkness creeping up and ensnaring him all the while, he eventually decided to remain in his room until the next morning, in order to let the excitement die down.

Remembering that it was terribly unlike him to wallow in self-pity, Lorenz marched to the doorway and flicked the light on. He then, after some apprehension, turned to Claude’s mini-fridge and used the last of the almond milk he found within and one of his best teabags from his secret stash to prepare a pleasantly nice and calming cup of tea.

He found himself thankful Claude was away, as he likely wouldn’t take kindly to Lorenz scavenging from his fridge without permission. However, in his defense, the milk would surely expire should Claude remain away for too long and Lorenz would simply replace it as his first act of apology. He made a mental note to go grocery shopping the next day and stock up on other essentials in the meantime.

The longer Lorenz remained awake and engaged in idle thinking, the more tired he became until he could no longer stand the harsh fluorescence of the overhead light. He flicked it off and after a moment of feeling his way through the inky darkness, switched Claude’s lava lamp on instead. Just a few days ago, Lorenz had glared at the thing for being immature and out of place in the academy dorm but now he somehow felt rather fascinated with the strange patterns of light and shapes it produced.

Eventually, the low light and ambient background chatter took its toll on the young man, exhausted after such a long and emotionally taxing day. He made for the communal bathrooms to brush his teeth and retreated into the privacy and solitude of his own room with haste.

He never would have predicted he would grow used to Claude’s presence so soon, or even at all. And yet, the stillness that was once synonymous with his home here at Garreg Mach now felt unwelcoming and despite his own and Claude’s belongings lining the surfaces, left him with the eerie feeling that the room he had wandered into was abandoned. It was almost like something he had come to expect and, dare he say it, painstakingly grow accustomed to, had suddenly been taken away, leaving him feeling rather lost. With the solemn thought weighing on him, Lorenz eventually drifted off to a restless slumber.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to my friends Caps and Sai for providing feedback and ideas for this chapter!


	4. A Fair Lesson Learned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After his efforts to get through to Claude fail, Lorenz finds his perspective shifts with the help of two colleagues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope none of you are growing too attached to Lorenz our loser protagonist as he is now, a total disaster who tries to make things better but only makes everything worse. That’s going to change pretty soon and I hope you enjoy reading the struggle as much as I enjoy writing it :')

The weekend passed quickly and uneventfully, something Lorenz wasn’t sure if he was thankful for or not.

On one hand, he was able to fall back into his old routine and felt a warm sense of relief at the familiarity. Waking up, readying himself in the privacy of his room before stepping out into a brand new day. Just as he liked it.

On the other hand, every time Lorenz heard footsteps outside his door, he found himself wondering if they belonged to Claude. Against his better judgement, he even felt a dull pang of disappointment as they passed by and faded into silence.

He knew such feelings of unease were ridiculous. The only reason Lorenz was even remotely unsettled, the only reason he kept an eye on the door when in his room and a hand on his phone when out, was because he longed to bury the hatchet and rid his mind of the disquiet he felt about the situation.

In a few days time, Claude would calm down and return home. Lorenz would apologise for acting impudent and uptight. Claude would apologise for losing his temper and shoving him. All would be right in the world. And if Claude, for whatever reason, didn’t return in time then Lorenz would simply speak to him on Monday, when they next had their class together.

The solution to his predicament was clear and yet… why couldn’t he stop thinking about it?

He shook his head. None of that mattered right now. He couldn’t mend the rift between himself and Claude if Claude was not around, thus there was no use deliberating over anything for the time being. This, he was certain of.

After such a trying week, Lorenz was delighted to have a weekend to himself and set out early Saturday afternoon to run some errands. First, he drove to the bank to withdraw funds for his imminent trip to the local shopping complex. Then, as he roamed the mall and relished in the fresh air and exercise, he treated himself to some tea and splurged on the newest and finest cologne money could buy. After that, he picked up his dry cleaning and went grocery shopping.

As planned, he replaced all the items from Claude’s fridge, as well as groceries for himself. He had phoned Hilda and attempted to ascertain if Claude had a favoured type of tea he could gift him but instead received a short list of some disgustingly sugary snacks that a small part of Lorenz suspected weren’t for Claude at all. Still, he bought each item she requested because, as a proper gentleman, it would be outrageously rude of him to ignore a lady in need.

Sunday remained similarly quiet, the morning spent tidying his room and the afternoon spent reading quietly in the campus library until Ferdinand arrived in the early evening to work on their business project. Ferdinand had, of course, learned from Hubert about the confrontation on Friday and appeared exasperated at Lorenz’s actions and offended that his friend hadn’t sought his advice for fixing the problem or even told him himself. After discussing the events in more detail, Ferdinand’s perspective changed and he praised Lorenz for his maturity in wanting to apologise and move on.

Sunday night eventually rolled around and there was still no sign at all of Claude. Lorenz would believe he had vanished completely if their room wasn’t still littered with Claude’s junk. Where in the world was he? A couple of hours or even a day spent ‘having his own space’, as Hilda had put it, was perfectly acceptable. Disappearing for an entire weekend seemed excessive and immature, as if he was taking advantage of the situation to avoid Lorenz out of spite.

All too aware of the steadily growing impatience within him, Lorenz, for the third night in a row, prepared to go to bed in silence and solitude. He slept poorly, yet again, and arrived at economics class the next morning feeling exhausted and irritable.

Predictably, Claude arrived ten minutes after class began, pushing the boundaries of fashionably late into plainly inconsiderate. Unfortunately for Lorenz, such rudeness prevented him from cornering Claude and speaking to him as he would have liked, forcing him to endure feeling Claude’s eyes on the back of his head for the entire four-hour lesson.

As soon as Professor Gilbert dismissed the class, Lorenz wasted no time in packing his belongings up as fast as he was able and turned to where Claude had been seated. The universe had other ideas, however, as the conniving man had already disappeared from his desk and was leaving the room. Becoming exasperated at his antics, Lorenz gave chase and followed Claude all the way to their room.

Marvellous. It seemed Claude was finally ready and willing to put this behind them. Lorenz’s annoyance subsided and he pounced, making his presence known before Claude could disappear again.

”Good day, Claude. I hope your days have been pleasant as of late.”

“I’m not interested in making small talk, Lorenz,” Claude replied without looking up from the exercise book he was flipping through.

“…I see,” Lorenz said, caught off guard by his standoffish attitude. This wasn’t how he had expected this conversation to go but he managed kept his tone level for now. Driving his roommate away with overt hostility was the last thing he could afford to do. “In that case, I have been reflecting on my behaviour and realised that it was most unbecoming of me to mistreat another student in such a shameful manner. Please accept my apologies.”

At first, Claude didn’t answer, giving no indication he had even heard him. Then he closed his book and deposited it into his backpack, which was then slung on his back. “Do you have any idea how transparent you are?” He bit out, an unreadable expression on his face.

Taken aback, Lorenz gaped at him with wide eyes. “Excuse me?”

“It was ‘unbecoming’ and ‘shameful’ for you to ‘mistreat’ me, was it?” Claude repeated mockingly, waggling his fingers in air quotes. When Lorenz merely frowned at him wordlessly, Claude broke eye contact and turned his attention to the floorboards, working his jaw. “Wow, you didn’t learn anything, did you?”

“I do not believe you’re giving me a fair chance,” Lorenz insisted, venturing further into the room so as not to raise his voice at Claude from the doorway. “I have thought hard about my conduct and waited for this chance for us to explain ourselves. Do hear me out, won’t you?”

“Nope. I just came by to grab my chemistry notes then I’m off to class. Later,” Claude approached the door, which was swiftly blocked before he could leave.

“What do you mean, no?” Lorenz demanded. “As per Hilda’s words, I have given you sufficient time to collect yourself. How long must I wait until we can move on from this childish feud?”

“Sorry to burst your bubble, but you don’t get to decide how long it takes for me to get over something,” Claude paused, one hand rubbing his temple, the other on his hip. He wore a pained, weary expression as if he was summoning the will to not storm out there and then. “Just… answer me one thing. Maybe it’ll affect how quickly things turn around. Why do you _really_ want to apologise?” He stared at Lorenz with a dangerous glint in his eye, silently urging him to think carefully about his answer.

“Did you not just hear me?” Lorenz scoffed, tiring of these foolish questions. “Recognising when I have made an error and promptly rectifying it is merely my duty as a man of class. Is that so difficult to understand?”

“Your duty,” Claude said flatly, his expression twisted into a bitter sneer. “That’s all you care about. It wasn’t because you felt bad about being shitty to someone. You just want the problem to disappear to make yourself feel better.”

Despite the bold and frankly offensive accusation, Lorenz, again, did not respond, his brows drawn close together as he watched Claude’s motions closely. It seemed he had set off a metaphorical landmine. Though he hadn’t an idea what the ‘correct’ answer was in this situation - he was merely speaking from the heart. He had vowed to himself that he would keep a level head when this discussion came but found it was becoming increasingly difficult to keep his sanity from running out. Claude was a puzzle, one that Lorenz did not have the knowledge or patience to solve.

“Nothing to say for yourself, huh? Well, that about clears it up, then,” Claude rested his arms behind his head in a casual gesture that contrasted sharply with the now carefully blank expression on his face. “Thanks for confirming that you are indeed entirely superficial. Now, fortunately for everyone, I have more important places to be.”

At that, he moved to leave the room a second time, shouldering Lorenz out of the way and closed the door without looking back.

Well. That had failed spectacularly. What Lorenz was certain was his best attempt at apologising was ruined before he could even finish explaining himself.

A disconcerting blend of emotions rose up within him, a confusing mix of bewilderment, indignance and frustration, all battling for dominance with no winner. He felt conflicted, overwhelmingly so.

He had offended Claude by saying the opposite of what he wanted to hear, that much was clear. Part of Lorenz wished to chase him down and demand what he needed to do, what he needed to say, to correct this incredible blunder of his.

The other part of him cursed Claude for being so obscenely difficult all the time.

Now what was he supposed to do?

* * *

Lorenz wasn’t entirely sure what had prompted him to search for advice here of all places. He could have sought counsel from Ferdinand and Constance, who both seemed to be cut from the same cloth as him. He could have booked an appointment with Seteth and received guidance from the very man whose job was to guide the students. He could even have called Father, the greatest influence in his life, if he felt the situation was especially dire.

Instead, here he was at Dorm A, a building on the other side of the campus that he had almost no reason to ever visit. Watching with disgust as Raphael attempted to talk with a mouth full of fried chicken. He felt envious of Ignatz, sitting at his desk and paying the spectacle no mind in favour of inspecting the sketchbook in his hands.

“That sure sucks and all,” Raphael rumbled, scratching his head with a hand that Lorenz could only hope wasn’t covered in crumbs and grease. “But why’d you come to us about it?”

“Not that we’re not willing to help you out!” Ignatz clarified, dropping his book in a panic. “It’s just… Well… Don’t you have other friends who would be better suited to helping you with this sort of problem?”

“It is true that we can hardly be called close companions,” Lorenz agreed, tearing his eyes away from Raphael’s uncouth display before he could gag. “However, as much as I loathe to admit it, my recent… errors have led me to believe that a change of pace is in order. Thus, I wish to hear an unbiased, outsider opinion, if you are willing to provide one, of course.”

The two friends looked at each other, Raphael in confusion and Ignatz in uncertainty. Seeming to converse with their minds, the former shrugged and the latter smiled hesitantly, turning back to Lorenz.

“If you say so. We’ll do our best!”

That was where Lorenz found himself, describing everything from his first meeting with Claude to the argument that had brought him to their room. Retelling these events in such detail with two mere acquaintances was far from where he expected to be and yet, he doubted it would be the most unusual thing to happen to him in the coming days.

“…And that brings us to approximately one hour ago,” he finished sometime later. “Utterly ridiculous, would you not agree?”

“Well… I wouldn’t go that far,” Ignatz mused. “This is clearly no minor thing for Claude, so undermining it like that won’t help you at all.”

“Yeah, sounds to me like he’s got a lot going on and you probably made it all worse,” Raphael added, a blunt edge to his tone.

Offended, Lorenz let his pride speak for him. “How dare you?! I’ll have you know I have attempted to handle this to the best of my ability.”

“But I’m right, I think! I’ve gotta be,” Raphael proclaimed. "Claude’s a nice guy, he wouldn’t have yelled at you for nothing.” He had answered Lorenz a bit too loudly in his adamant excitement but otherwise either ignored or was oblivious to his displeasure.

“That’s true,” Ignatz nodded. “I’ve met him myself once or twice and he seemed very easygoing. Maybe something you said struck a nerve?”

Lifting a hand to his chin, Lorenz racked his brain. Even he couldn’t disagree with the point they raised; he knew very well by now that Claude was exceedingly laidback. What in particular could he have said or done to elicit such a strong reaction from him? He thought back to the moment when Claude had shoved him and what he had said just before that.

_“With such an inelegant disposition, it is clear to me that just as you appeared from nowhere, you will surely go nowhere without my assistance.”_

Was it true that Lorenz’s criticism of Claude’s unacceptably carefree attitude held more meaning than he thought? Cut deeper than he intended? Claude had told Lorenz on their first day together, exactly one week ago now, that he too had big dreams. Had Claude had taken offence to him pointing out that the world had little to offer to those who did not take it seriously? Or perhaps it was the disdainful remark about Claude’s very presence at Garreg Mach instead?

No, that couldn’t be true. He was surely imagining things again, just as he had been on Tuesday, the morning after their very first confrontation. There was much he did not know about Claude and it would do him no good to assume such things. Besides, he had simply been telling the truth. Claude, for all intents and purposes, _did_ come out of nowhere and an unfulfilling life _would_ await him if he didn’t make the most of his time at Garreg Mach.

His brows furrowed in concentration as he internally cursed Claude for being so impossible to understand.

_A puzzle… An unsolvable puzzle._

“No, certainly not. Perhaps… Perhaps it was a domino effect of sorts? Many small instances by themselves seemed to have little effect on him but when combined…” Lorenz murmured to himself, running different possibilities through his head.

“Maybe. It does sound like you’ve been really - ah, how do I put this… persistent?” Ignatz offered. His hesitant voice trailed off as he appeared to preemptively brace himself for Lorenz to object again. Nothing was to come, however.

“Yes, Hilda and Dorothea said the same. Their methods were harsh yet effective. I will confess that at first, I did not feel truly remorseful until they were able to… broaden my perspective,” Lorenz said shamefully, ignoring the small shudder that shook his frame as he remembered the choice words they had hurled at him. Like two beautiful roses with thorns, those women were. “However, what I am most unsure of is how I am to progress from here.”

Raphael chuckled. “Well, that’s easy. You gotta apologise and let him know you feel bad about messing up.”

“I have attempted that already,” Lorenz reminded him. “But Claude seemed under the impression that I was insincere if the question he asked just before he left is any indication. As if I would ever be so spineless as to lie about something so sensitive…”

Ignatz seemed to consider his words carefully, frowning slightly as he tapped a pencil to his chin in deep thought. “I don’t think that’s it. You’re very honest even if that honesty sometimes rubs people the wrong way. I’m pretty sure Claude would have picked up on that by now. He probably doesn’t think you weren’t being genuine, but rather were just offering an empty apology to make the conflict go away.”

“Yeah, that’s real smart, Ignatz!” Raphael praised cheerfully, his enthusiasm as he shifted causing the bedsprings to groan under his weight. “Apologies come from the heart. You gotta mean what you say, _always_ , or there’s no point in even sayin’ it.”

“That’s it, Lorenz,” Ignatz leaned forward in his chair, his small smile gently urging Lorenz to take his words to heart. “He doesn’t want you to apologise because you feel obligated to by a sense of duty. He wants you to apologise because you feel remorse for the way you treated him and won’t do it again.”

Claude’s probing question had seemed pointless at the time. On the contrary, however, it seemed that in being completely and utterly ‘transparent’ as Claude had put it, he had committed another gross error of judgement. When he had thought he was apologising, he was instead giving an excuse utterly devoid of any awareness or feeling. His shame from earlier returned in full force, and with it the gloomy realisation that this likely wouldn’t be the last time he would embarrass himself in front of others, simply for doing what he had wholeheartedly believed was right.

“If Claude wants an apology, why is he so determined to avoid me at every turn and deprive me of the chance to provide one?” He asked after some time spent lost in thought, voicing the one question that rose to the forefront of his mind.

“You gotta give him some time to cool off first. Didn’t you already get told that?”

“Indeed. Forgiveness is a powerful thing. You can’t ever force it, you have to let it come naturally. Sometimes it can be really hard to forgive someone who’s hurt you and it might take a long time. But at the end of the day, it’s one of the strongest things a person can do,” Ignatz explained,steadfast and resolute as if all traces of his earlier apprehension had vanished.

“That’s… rather profound, Ignatz,” Lorenz appraised, surprised but nonetheless impressed by his words.

“O-oh, you think so? It’s just how I feel, really…” Ignatz gave a sheepish smile as his cheeks flushed slightly in embarrassment.

“No, you’re right!” Raphael agreed vehemently, breaking out into a boisterous grin. “Heh, you know all about making peace with other people but don’t know how to make peace with yourself! Have you ever noticed that?”

“R-Raphael! Don’t say things like that…”

Lorenz’s eyes widened slightly, his curiosity piqued by the concerning implications behind Raphael’s words and Ignatz’s frantic reaction. “If you don’t mind me asking, what exactly do you mean by that?”

The two friends exchanged another brief look, silent and solemn. “I lost my parents three years ago,” Raphael began. “They died in an accident at work and left me and my little sis behind. I dunno what would have happened to us if Ignatz and his parents didn’t take us in.”

“Of course we took you in. It was the least we could do,” Ignatz said quietly, glazed-over eyes fixed on the floor. He suddenly looked withdrawn and despondent, as if he was more saddened by Raphael’s story than Raphael himself.

“But you’ve never stopped feeling bad after all this time.”

“Well, yes, because your parents were covering for my father’s shift. If he hadn’t taken the day off to go to my art show then maybe—“

“Ignatz, how many times do I have to tell ya? What happened that day wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t anyone’s fault, it was an _accident_. And besides, it’s in the past now.”

“Yeah… I know,” Ignatz let his head droop as if he were mourning, his posture hunched and closed off. A second later, he seemed to remember that they weren’t alone and collected himself, nervously wringing his hands. “Sorry, we got a bit off-topic there…”

Observing such a personal exchange as if he wasn’t even there had rather the unexpected effect on Lorenz. He had severely underestimated the importance of time and patience in times of conflict. Such a horrifically tragic event as the death of two children’s parents had occurred years ago and though Raphael seemed remarkably well-adjusted, the same could not be said for Ignatz, the empathetic boy still affected years later. And Raphael appeared entirely patient in supporting his friend and assuring him that he was not at fault.

Furthermore, he had learned more about the two young men in front of him during this single chance encounter than he had known in the several months since meeting them. Ignatz and Raphael, as it turned out, were rather more complex than he initially gave them credit for, and carried burdens he would not have expected given the former’s shy, unassuming nature and the latter’s penchant for little other than eating or exercising.

Perhaps Claude was similar in some ways. Easy smiles and witty humour masking a rich, multifaceted being that Lorenz was likely incapable of ever understanding. Partially due to their numerous differences and partially due to his own efforts in ensuring that Claude would never trust him.

The depth of kindness and understanding, both spoken and unspoken by the two friends in front of Lorenz surpassed his own by tenfold. It was undeniable that their words had given him much to think about, but this feeling of complete comprehension was something else entirely. He felt as if a divine revelation had struck him merely from witnessing them converse. Truly, there was much he could stand to learn from them, and in the wake of such a realisation, Lorenz knew his time in their room was up.

“On the contrary, I believe this was exactly what I needed to hear. You have both helped me a great deal and for that, you have my sincerest gratitude,” he said earnestly.

“We’re glad to hear it!” Raphael beamed.

“Yes, what he said. Have a think about what we said and try to put it to use. You’re welcome back here anytime to let us know what happens,” Ignatz agreed, nodding his head with a warm smile.

“Thank you, that is very much appreciated. If it pleases, I shall see to it that we cross paths more often in the future. Despite our differences, it is my belief that you two are some of the sincerest people I could have chosen to seek the consultation of today. Farewell.”

Lorenz closed the door and began the walk back to the more familiar side of the campus. Though he had said his piece and gained valuable advice, part of him felt ashamed that he was unable to surmise such information himself. He hadn’t just failed to mend the problem on his own, he had foolishly made everything worse.

He had relied on others to teach him how to fix this mistake of his. Now the onus was on him to follow up on their expectations.

* * *

Lorenz was not sure when he would next see Claude but knew that it likely wouldn’t be at least until the next day. True to his prediction, the following morning he spied Claude out of the corner of his eye as he casually strolled into class and vowed not to pay him any mind.

He knew now that in order to see this predicament through and resolve it properly, he needed to keep his distance from Claude.Attempting to take control of the situation would merely exacerbate the problem, as he had already been careless enough to find out for himself. He had learned it was _more_ than his duty to provide Claude with the distance he needed. It was simply human.

The class concluded after several monotonous hours and after a brief conversation with Ferdinand wherein they agreed to meet for tea with Constance in the near future and discuss their recent happenings, Lorenz returned to his room with haste.

He realised with some regret that due to these tumultuous times it had been quite some time since he had engaged in one of his most precious hobbies: poetry. Lorenz was of the firm belief that language was a beautiful thing and the potential to evoke a vast and powerful range of emotions with a simple verse was a gift. He enjoyed writing poetry quite a lot when left to his own devices and with little else to do but preferred not to share this detail with others. His words came straight from within after all, and some things simply were not meant for the eyes of others.

Now, how should he collect his thoughts this time? His laptop was more convenient, useful for writing large amounts of words quickly and far more secure, ensuring his work was safe from prying eyes. Alternatively, the traditional simplicity of pen and paper helped him to find the right mindset and on his best days, the feeling of words effortlessly flowing out of his pen was a feeling like no other.

After some thought, he opted for the traditional method, producing his finest fountain pen and notebook from his desk drawer. As he searched the depths of his heart for its thoughts, his pen began moving gracefully.

_My character, tested by trying times_

_All that I know has been challenged by fate_

_My heart and its folly, committing crimes_

He frowned quizzically, lifting his pen before it could leak over the page. What crimes exactly? How could he elaborate on the depth of his thoughtlessness in such delicate scripture?

The door opened suddenly, startling Lorenz out of his introspection.

Claude bounded in, wearing a cheerful smile that promptly fell when he realised the room was not empty.

“Good day,” Lorenz greeted, sending Claude a brief glance of acknowledgement before returning his attention to his paper.

_Many moons shall pass but with patience, I wait_

“Here we go again…” Claude grumbled under his breath. The quip did not go unnoticed and was unappreciated but Lorenz didn’t comment. “Look, you don’t need to say anything, alright? I’m just passing by.”

His thoughts occupied by the task at hand, Lorenz replied with polite brevity. “I understand. Do take care.”

“You— _what_?” Claude’s expression of disbelief was unexpectedly sharp and caused Lorenz to look up at him in mild alarm. He wasn’t sure what he expected to see on his roommate’s face but a look of utter bewilderment, more comically exaggerated than he had seen on any person, certainly wasn’t it.

“What?” Lorenz echoed, just as perplexed as Claude. Had he set himself back even further? No, surely that was impossible, he was certain he had grasped the solution by now… If being authoritative was incorrect but remaining passive was also incorrect, then Claude truly was incomprehensible.

The shock on Claude’s face slowly made way for puzzlement, his brows furrowed, mouth agape and head tilted. “Did you just tell me to take care?”

“I did,” Lorenz answered tentatively. “Is there a problem?”

Claude paused for a long while. “No,” was all he said, the odd, drawn-out sound mirroring his baffled expression. Lorenz waited for him to continue but nothing came, leaving an uncomfortable silence hanging in the room. It was a uniquely different kind of discomfort than what Lorenz usually expected after his interactions with Claude, however. Less strained, although still a distinctly unfamiliar feeling. Perhaps in due time…

Lorenz was the first to break the unpleasant eye contact by resuming his inscriptions. He felt Claude’s eyes drilling into the side of his head, gauging him, analysing him but not daring to speak up. Then he simply gave a short chuckle, a strange mix of amusement and dismissal, and shut the door with a quiet _click_.

_I cannot concede, for I have not won_

_My hopes rise; the story has just begun._

* * *


	5. So Be It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After burying the hatchet, the relationship between the two roommates begins its slow growth.

The peculiar exchange never once left Lorenz’s mind.

For the rest of the evening, as he lay in bed trying to fall asleep and all through the next day, he dwelled on it. Claude’s words, his expressions and body language, his utter shock at Lorenz relenting from his verbal assault. It was an immensely confusing predicament that left him wondering what it all meant, if it was a sign of progress at long last.

Even once Friday came, his roommate remaining unseen and unheard all the while, his absence somehow felt more noticeable than it had been several days ago. After learning so much and having so much to think about, the constant solitude began to feel daunting.

Something had changed. Lorenz wasn’t sure what exactly but something was most definitely different between them.

In the wake of such a realisation, Lorenz felt no small amount of frustration that he seemed unable to forget about their last meeting for even a moment. It was Constance’s birthday and he was currently enjoying himself too much to be thinking of Claude. Ferdinand and himself had invited her out and the trio were currently indulging in some fine tea and a plate of absolutely delectable scones, courtesy of Constance’s favourite café.

It was a modest celebration, but a pleasant one nonetheless and Lorenz found himself relishing in the opportunity to relax in the company of his closest friends. They spent several hours catching up and exchanging many humorous or interesting anecdotes before eventually journeying back to the campus and parting ways in the late afternoon.

Lorenz returned to his dorm that later that evening in a positively shining mood. His higher-than-usual optimism ensured he was especially caught off guard entering his room as he noticed a shadowy figure laying on Claude’s bed, barely illuminated by the dim light of a phone screen.

“Oh, hey,” Claude’s voice casually said from the darkness. “Was wondering when you’d get here.”

“Good heavens, Claude,” Lorenz breathed, startled by the sudden greeting. He flicked on the light and swallowed a confused sputter as he laid eyes on his roommate. No wonder Lorenz couldn’t see his face; Claude was currently resting the opposite way one normally would on a bed with his legs and feet snaking up the headboard and propped against the wall. Lorenz let out an exasperated sigh. “What, pray tell, are you doing?”

“Been killing time here for a couple hours. I figured we should have a little chat. I’m sure you already know about what,” Claude tilted his head back to look at Lorenz upside down, the inane action belying his serious tone.

Ah. Yes, he should have known.

“Very well, then. I have—” Lorenz paused as he noticed Claude didn’t seem to be in a hurry to adjust his atrocious posture. “Please, for the love of all things good, sit like a normal person. I cannot take you seriously looking at me like that and you’re likely dirtying the wall besides.”

“Ha! I think that was the longest you’ve ever gone without critiquing my behaviour,” Claude snarked, mercifully pulling himself up to sit cross-legged. “Alright, go on, then.”

“…Right,” Lorenz made his way to his desk chair and sat, not sure where to begin. He had been eager to have this conversation so that his life could finally revert back to normal while utterly dreading it due to how many times he had already escalated the situation. “In that case, I have learned much since last week. Namely about how I have severely misjudged the validity of my actions and how my carelessness worsened the situation instead of fixing it. I can now say with certainty that the way I spoke to you was inexcusable and will surely never happen again.”

“ _And_?” Claude leaned forward, his head resting in both hands as if he was receiving an interesting piece of gossip.

Lorenz sighed. He had known this wouldn’t be easy and Claude wasn’t at all helping. But if this humiliation was the price to pay for his voice being heard then so be it. Shamefully, some part of him was still reluctant to yield to Claude, a tiny voice in the back of his mind urging him to not give in. The remainder scolded his naivety, knowing this was what he must do in order to make things right.

His name and image had been besmirched. His pride and confidence in his actions challenged. Now there was no turning back. No way to undo the ignorance he had displayed before. This was simultaneously the most and least he could offer.

Lorenz cleared his throat, bracing himself. He felt like he was about to take a leap of faith and only time would tell if he would land safely. “I hurt you, Claude. Repeatedly and without shame or remorse. I hope you will accept my deepest apologies.”

Claude scratched at the back of his neck, a focused expression on his face as if he was searching for the right words. “Well, it may have taken a lot of time and effort, probably more than it should have, but… It’s good that you learned where you went wrong. That’s all I wanted, all along. For you to just understand that your word is not absolute and that other people matter just as much as you do, no more and no less.”

“So, does that mean—?”

“Yes, we can move on,” Claude rolled his eyes as an exasperated smile crossed his face, looking incredulous at Lorenz asking such a thing.

Eyes looking everywhere but at Claude, Lorenz merely nodded. He felt immensely relieved as if he could breathe easy after a long period of being unable to drag enough air in. Now that this matter had been settled, he wondered what they were to do next. Would Claude move back into the room now?

“Well, since you’ve gone and said your piece, I’ll go next,” Claude announced, derailing his train of thought. “Without you looking over my shoulder all the time, I was able to reflect a lot as well and…” he shrugged, letting out a sigh, “I shouldn’t have pushed you. And it was unfair of me to invite a bunch of people over without giving you a heads-up. I said it myself: this is just as much your room as it is mine. So, I’m sorry as well.”

Stunned, Lorenz took a moment to compose himself enough to reply. Tearing his eyes up to finally look at his roommate, he was surprised to see him bearing an odd expression of muted discomfort. “This is rather unexpected. I confess I have been so preoccupied with correcting my own mistake that I had forgotten I was not the only one to blame.”

“I mean, don’t get me wrong, you were way more out of line than I was,” Claude interrupted, grinning widely.

“Yes, well… I was initially outraged at your behaviour that day. But if I was able to forget about it so easily then it seems that the only conclusion one can draw is that it was simply unimportant in the grand scheme of things.

“Of course, what I mean to say is I no longer hold your actions against you,” the ice broken, Lorenz gave Claude a pointed expression and folded his arms. “Although I would prefer you to cease with the surprise guests.”

“Glad to hear it,” Claude smiled before suddenly perking up and snapping his fingers. That ever-present, devilish glint shone in his eye again. “Here’s an idea. Now that that’s all out of the way, we should establish a set of ground rules. Get a better understanding of each other’s boundaries and learn to exist in the same space without killing each other.”

“Yes, I see,” Lorenz agreed, a hand to his chin in thought. “Very well, I propose that my first rule is that you are henceforth forbidden from having company over without first informing me.”

“How am I supposed to let you know with no way of contacting you?” Claude pointed out.

His question gave Lorenz pause. The answer was obvious but he hadn’t imagined that they would find themselves in such a position now of all times. ‘ _So be it,’_ he repeated in his head. “I suppose we will simply have to exchange contact information.”

“Fine by me,” Claude said, passing his phone over. “Counterargument: that fridge is mine and mine only. Don’t think I didn’t notice all my snacks were magically brand-new when I got back today. I don’t want to have to buy a lock, got it?”

“Th-That was merely due to…” before he could begin to flounder inelegantly, Lorenz cut himself off. “No matter. Rule three, your guests are not to touch my property under any circumstances.”

“Ready for this one? Try to stop ordering me around in here. I know it might be hard for you but bear with me, okay?”

“Will you ever cease with those immature jibes?”

“Nope. Rule five: Claude is allowed to make as many immature jibes as he wants.”

After discussing their new arrangement for longer than expected, the two roommates eventually readied themselves for bed. The scene was reminiscent of the first night after Claude moved in but the atmosphere was decidedly different. Lorenz felt light, like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. Perhaps it was oddly manifested relief that he had seen this chaos through.

Now that their petty feud was over, Lorenz had not a clue what awaited him and Claude in the near future, but took the barest amount of pride in the fact that change would hopefully be occurring soon. If nothing else, surely that had to be a small victory in of itself.

* * *

If there was one thing Lorenz had been grateful for in recent times, it was that he had been free to wake up peacefully each morning, without the assistance of that dreadful coffee machine.

Unfortunately, it appeared those days were over.

“Ngh… Rule seven. I beg of you, wean yourself off of those morning coffees,” he groaned the next morning, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

“What?!” Claude exclaimed in disbelief, much louder than Lorenz would have preferred to hear seconds after waking up. “No way. I’m vetoing that.”

“There are no vetos allowed.”

“Damn right there are. I refuse to drink that sludge from the café.”

“That machine is an utterly horrid sound to wake up to and I will not budge on this.”

“Alright, then how’s this? From now on, I’ll only use it _after_ you wake up.”

“Better yet, you may only use it once I have left for the communal bathrooms.”

“Deal, but I still stand by the fact that it’s not that bad and you’re endlessly overdramatic.”

“Hm. I still cannot fathom how you can drink that day after day,” Lorenz made a face as Claude emptied far too much sugar into his mug. “Such a vile substance simply does not compare to a fine cup of tea.”

“If tea is so wonderful, how come I don’t ever see you brewing any in here?” Claude prodded, a mischievous look in his eye.

“I am content with what the café offers,” Lorenz answered honestly. 

“I don’t believe it!” Claude slapped a hand to the side of his face, eyes wide. “You, Lorenz Hellman Gloucester, settling for anything other than million-dollar tea served in golden cups?”

“Indeed. To quote somebody, it is quite nice and you are being dramatic in your assertions of the contrary,” Lorenz echoed, deadpan. “Although, there is also a rather quaint tea shop within walking distance that I enjoy as well but the close proximity makes the café much more convenient.”

“Haven’t you ever thought of keeping teabags, or leaves if bags are too unsophisticated for you, in here?” Claude suggested, looking sceptical at such a simple solution being overlooked. “That way if you ever feel like having tea, you can just do it right here.”

“No, Claude, I have not, because keeping such things in our rooms is against the dormitory rules. Preparation and consumption of food and drink is prohibited outside of the dining hall,” Lorenz scolded, deciding it best to not mention the secret stash of his favourite teas that he kept. Those were strictly for emergencies, locked safely away in a drawer where Claude couldn’t find them.

“Suit yourself,” Claude shrugged, swirling around the liquid in his mug. “But if I were you, I’d loosen up a bit. It’s not like any of the professors ever enforce that rule because everyone I know keeps snacks in their rooms. Besides,” he grinned deviously, “rules are meant to be broken, especially if they’re stupid.”

* * *

The pair had begun to hurl so many rules at each other that they couldn’t possibly remember them all.

A week later, Lorenz found a solution and took a trip to the stationary store. He was inspecting the selection of pin-up whiteboards, erasable markers in hand, when his phone buzzed.

> **Direct Message**   
>  **Lone 28 12:26 pm**
> 
> **(Unregistered Contact):** hey i heard u made up :eyes:
> 
> **(Unregistered Contact):** good on u 4 doin the right thing i guess but make sure u dont forget what u learned
> 
> **Lorenz H. Gloucester:** Who is this? And how did you get my number?
> 
> **(Unregistered Contact):** its hilda
> 
> **(Unregistered Contact):** claude gave it to me lol

Lorenz huffed and opened a new chat thread.

> **Direct Message**   
>  **Lone 28 12:29 pm**
> 
> **Lorenz H. Gloucester:** I have purchased a whiteboard for us to document our rules upon.
> 
> **claude von riegan:** not a bad idea
> 
> **claude von riegan:** i already forgot all of yours lmao ****
> 
> **Lorenz H. Gloucester:** Yes, I thought that may be the case.I look forward to commemorating its addition to our room with my newest rule: Do not give my contact information out to people without my permission.
> 
> **claude von riegan:** C+ the setup was a little elaborate but you got there in the end i guess

* * *

Time seemed to pass faster after establishing a reliable system.

Lorenz’s interactions with Claude were no longer chores that he strove to avoid whenever possible, though they weren’t quite enjoyable or productive either. They were simply part of his day.

Claude had retrieved whatever belongings had been moved out during the past week, though he still spent much of his time away from their room. Oftentimes, on days when Lorenz chose to pass his time in the dorm, Claude would appear with no warning, collect an object of some sort from his shelf or drawers, perhaps scribble something down on the board and leave to return hours later. Lorenz, in turn, would do the same, jotting down new rules as he thought of them and relishing in how pleasing to the eye the refined print of his own handwriting was in comparison to Claude’s childish scrawl.

“Are you going to Hubert’s party next weekend?” Claude suddenly asked one afternoon. It seemed that, for once, he was _not_ wasting time with his friends, instead choosing to waste time in his room, mindlessly scrolling on his phone while Lorenz dutifully did homework.

“Hubert von Vestra’s throwing a party?” Lorenz looked up, incredulousness pulling his attention from his laptop. “He’s the last person on this campus I would expect to engage in such frivolities.”

“And you’d probably be right. It’s his birthday and Dorothea’s throwing a surprise party.”

“Why in the world would she want to do that? He’s going to hate it.”

“That’s the best part!” Claude laughed heartily. “So, you in or not?”

“Of course not. It sounds like a waste of time,” Lorenz turned back to his homework, the task infinitely more important than discussing a birthday invitation.

Claude scoffed. “I think it’s gonna be a blast. You really should take that stick out your ass and have some fun now and then.”

Lorenz’s nose wrinkled in distaste. He retrieved a purple marker from his drawer. “Rule Fifteen: no inappropriate comments are to be directed at me.”

“Oh, come on…” Claude groaned, a hand rubbing his temple. “Say, isn’t your tea buddy Hubert’s roommate? Why don’t you go to pay him a visit?”

“His name is Ferdinand von Aegir and yes, you are correct,” Lorenz sighed, shaking his head. “I see little point in going to such a senseless gathering with that sole purpose but very well, if it will cease your incessant nagging then I will go.”

* * *

The party, as it turned out, was rather unlike what he had expected.

True to his word, Lorenz set some time aside to make a brief appearance and despite the obnoxious strobe lights and loud music getting on his nerves, he ended up staying longer than expected. Dorothea’s efforts to gather as many people as possible were admittedly impressive, the sea of people unable to be contained in the small dorm room and flowing out into the hall.

Ferdinand had been assigned the duty of keeping Hubert away and in his absence, Lorenz blended in with those wandering about and mingling. He noticed Claude talking and laughing animatedly with a large group down the hall and instead busied himself in a pleasant conversation with Ignatz, Raphael and an unfamiliar girl with short, red hair.

Once Dorothea announced the man of the hour was on his way, Lorenz finally decided to leave upon seeing how cramped and uncomfortable the dorm room looked with such a crowd packed inside. To his surprise, he even felt a small pang of disappointment that he couldn’t join them and witness Hubert’s reaction to his so-called birthday surprise.

Predictably, as he heard from Ferdinand a short time later, many of the attendees quickly fled after being on the receiving end of a furious glare and a vast array of colourful threats.

“I still do not understand why she would have bothered to go to such trouble,” Lorenz wondered aloud, rereading his friend’s text message.

“It’s called having fun,” Claude smirked. He and his friends had apparently decided to resume the festivities elsewhere, as he had returned in the evening with a six-pack of soft drinks in tow and accessorised head to toe with glowsticks. “That aside, I saw you chatting with Raph and Iggy and Leonie. Wouldn’t have thought you’d get along with them, you guys are pretty different.”

“I had met the former two before and got along quite well. As for Leonie, I was only speaking with her briefly,” Lorenz waved a hand. “She and Raphael broke away before long to settle some silly dispute about which of them could best the other in an arm-wrestling contest.

“Yeah, sounds about right.”

“I suppose all things considered, I rather enjoyed myself.”

“Ha! I told you so.”

“Yes yes, Claude, I know. You were right and I was wrong, are you pleased?”

“Precisely. I’m glad you understand,” dim lighting covered the room, the only light source being Claude’s lamp and yet, Lorenz didn’t need to see Claude to know he was grinning broadly. “But in all seriousness, you ought to remember this next time you brush off one of my brilliant suggestions. Sometimes I am worth listening to after all, who woulda thought?”

Already weary of the day’s events and quickly growing tired of the conversation as well, Lorenz knew it was time to begin his nightly routine. “We shall see,” was all he said as he got up, offered a glance over his shoulder and left the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter actually may have been more difficult to write than the thought-provoking conflict of the last two chapters. I love me some slice of life but it was a challenge to not make it feel like pointless filler. I'm happy with the end result and feel like each little snippet either adds a bit of small characterisation or contributes to Lorenz and Claude's transition from 'enemies' to 'people who don't hate each other but also aren't friends' but... idk. don't be afraid to let me know what yall think, reviews are my sustenance :’)


	6. Multifaceted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In a hectic couple of weeks, Lorenz is thrust into a group of strange people, receives a grounding phone call and enjoys a much needed treat with friends, all the while growing steadily more accustomed to Claude’s companionship.

The weekend following the party passed in relative silence.

On Monday, Lorenz received a vague text from Claude requesting his presence in the campus café. After some time spent deliberating why in the world Claude would want to meet him there rather than their room, curiosity prevailed and he went.

He arrived to see Claude waving him over to a large, colourful-looking group crammed into a booth in the corner. Among them, a few faces were familiar; Lorenz sat down between a contemplative-looking Ignatz and a smiling Leonie, waving as Hilda greeted him with a playful wink.

There were also two people he hadn’t seen before. Claude, appearing to have orchestrated this strange gathering, wore an obnoxious grin on his face as he patted a young woman with entirely white hair on the head, who in turn was pouting at his antics. At the far side of the table, Raphael was conversing quietly with another young woman, this one with sky blue hair and a subdued expression that reminded Lorenz somewhat of the first time he met Constance.

“Alright,” Claude announced, clapping his hands together to quiet the group. “Now that everyone’s here, I’d like to officially call this meeting to order.”

What soon followed was an explanation that each of the students he had gathered could stand to learn a thing or two or shared something with the others. He had decided to test this theory by bringing them all together in an attempt to ‘break some boundaries’.

Humorously, Claude was immediately proven wrong as conversation soon erupted. There was a distinct lack of chemistry to be seen, only a mix of clashing personalities utterly unable to hold a conversation with each other without derailing into childish bickering.

Despite the fact that everyone in the group seemed to already know at least one other person, the scene rapidly grew discordant from the sound of six people attempting to talk over each other while Ignatz and the shy girl named Marianne could only watch helplessly. Before long, Lorenz was forced to excuse himself before the dull pound in his head could grow into a migraine.

* * *

Four days later, Lorenz’s phone alerted him that he had been added to a new group chat. Despite his instincts telling him to immediately delete it, he opened it only to find the white-haired girl, whom he had learned was called Lysithea, had already voiced his grievances.

> **Group: FEAR THE DEER**   
>  **Great Tree 23 8:33 am**
> 
> **Lysithea von Ordelia:** First an unplanned and unwanted meeting with you all and now a group chat? I suggest you give it up, Claude, because I for one don’t care for this idiocy.
> 
> **Lorenz H. Gloucester:** I must agree. The other day was utterly disastrous; I cannot imagine why you thought this was the logical follow-up. Furthermore, why the nonsensical group name?
> 
> **hilda goneril~:** shut up lorenz its a good name
> 
> **marianne von edmund:** but why would anyone be afraid of deer? they’re such gentle creatures…
> 
> **Ignatz Victor:** I agree, deer are very nice! But he has a point, I don’t quite understand how it applies to us either
> 
> **claude von riegan:** i am so glad you asked
> 
> **claude von riegan:** this group will henceforth be known as the golden deer
> 
> **hilda goneril~:** :raised_hands: :yellow_heart: :deer:
> 
> **claude von riegan:** named of course after the majestic creatures known to bless our homeland in times past
> 
> **Leonie Pinelli!:** Okay but what about the fear part?
> 
> **Lysithea von Ordelia:** That part doesn’t need explaining. I already fear every waking moment I will be forced to spend with any of you in the future.
> 
> **RAPHAEL KIRSTWN:** thats so mean :(
> 
> **Lorenz H. Gloucester:** Onto more important matters. Claude, do us all a favour and remove yourself from your phone. We have a class in twenty minutes.

“You wound me, Lorenz,” Claude bemoaned in mock hurt when he returned to the room shortly after. He draped an arm over his forehead and hung off the doorframe in an embarrassingly dramatic display.

“Spare me your theatrics,” Lorenz rolled his eyes. “You cannot possibly have thought that this was a good idea given how _wonderfully_ we all got along earlier in the week.”

“You’ll see,” Claude released himself, grinning shrewdly. “I have high hopes for the Golden Deer.”

* * *

A special occasion was looming on the horizon.

That night, Lorenz made a call to an upscale restaurant and reserved a table for three on the 30th of the Great Tree, precisely one week away. When the day in question finally arrived, he took care to return to his dorm as soon as classes were over and spent ample time in his room getting ready to go out.

Sometimes, the dormitories irritated him; the lack of a wall mirror made dressing up terribly inconvenient. If he were an inconsiderate or stupid man, he would have ignored the academy’s rules on vandalism and had one installed for precisely this reason. How was he supposed to admire himself and his impeccable suit in the reflection of a paltry hand mirror? He sighed; it would have to do.

The door opened. Claude was back.

“Well, look at you all dressed to the nines,” he remarked, strolling past with a wry smile on his face. “What’s the occasion?”

“It is Ferdinand’s birthday and as my gift to him, I have reserved a table for us and Constance at a fine restaurant,” Lorenz explained.

He added the final touch, an artificial rose from his drawer pinned to his lapel complete with one more spray of cologne. He preened at himself in the mirror. _Perfect_. Now all that was left was to make his way to the reception hall and—

Delicate violin music suddenly sounded through the room. Lorenz jumped. His phone was ringing.

Claude looked up from where he had sat at his desk, a brow raised. “Classical music? Really?”

Ignoring him, Lorenz grasped the offending item inside his pocket. He didn’t have time for this charade right now, whoever was calling him would simply have to wait until dinner was over and he had returned.

Catching a glimpse of the screen, he hurriedly pulled his thumb away before he could hit decline.

> **_Father_ **

His pulse quickened. Why was his father calling him now of all times? Lorenz was meeting his friends momentarily and to be late to an event that he himself scheduled was impossibly rude. No, that was entirely out of the question.

On the other hand, this was Baron Edrich Gloucester calling him. CEO of the Gloucester Corporation and an overwhelmingly rich and powerful man whom Lorenz had the privilege to call his father. To ignore him would be equally as inexcusable, perhaps even more so. Showing such blatant disregard for his position and responsibility as heir may result in him being stripped of his title. All that he had worked for would be for naught. What was he to do?

Tentatively, he hit accept. “Good evening, Father. I trust you are well.”

“Good evening, my son,” his father’s commanding voice answered. Gloucester was often cold and calculating and his matter of speech reflected that; quiet yet stern, his father’s presence demanded the utmost attention and respect. “It’s been quite some time since we last spoke. Studying hard, I should hope?”

“Of course, Father. I have been extremely busy,” Lorenz agreed with no small amount of urgency. “I am actually rather busy right now, so regrettably, I cannot speak for long.”

“Hm? What could you possibly be busy with at this time of night?” Father’s narrowed eyes weren’t difficult to imagine with his accusatory tone.

Senses alight, Lorenz’s heart began to race at his next utterance. “Nothing of note, I assure you. I am simply meeting with some friends to study as a group.”

Normally he wouldn’t dare lie to his father but tonight was an exceptional circumstance. He immediately vowed to himself never to do it again; Gloucester would surely bring tempestuous wrath upon him if he ever learned of his son employing such insolence. He felt Claude’s eyes on him, conspicuously listening in.

“Lorenz,” his father began, using the strong businessman’s voice he had heard him use in meetings, or if he was foolish enough to misbehave in his childhood: _Do not defy me._ “You were always so responsible. I trust those cretins you’re surrounded by there are not influencing you?”

Lorenz’s blood ran cold at the probing question, almost definitely a test. “Certainly not! Students and faculty alike would agree that I am a model student. You have my word, Father,” he answered as honestly as he could muster, willing the trepidation gripping him out of his tone.

If they were in the same room, Gloucester would lean forward to inspect him, dour eyes searching for any trace of deception. It had taken many years for Lorenz to learn not to buckle under that austere gaze, though sometimes the temptation still struck in the face of his father’s judgement.

However, since they were not in the same room, Gloucester’s scrutiny manifested as a heavy silence. “…Very well,” he seemed to concede after a tense few seconds and Lorenz slowly let out a silent breath of relief. “I will remind you once again that you are the future of the Corporation. There will be dire consequences if you were to ignore your duties in favour of infantile fraternising. Do not let me down, son.”

And then he hung up before Lorenz could begin to grit out his understanding or even a goodbye. As he lowered the phone, he noticed he had received a text from Constance but found he wasn’t as bothered about making them wait as he was minutes ago.

“Whoa. What was that about? Claude asked in bemusement.

“That is none of your business,” Lorenz let out a breath, turning defensive eyes on his roommate. He regretted his harshness instantly, as it was not Claude who had put him in such a state after all.

Thankfully, Claude seemed not to mind, confusion melting into concern. “Are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Lorenz peered at himself in his mirror. Eyes wide, skin pale, he certainly looked rattled. How ridiculous. Father was an honourable, respectable businessman and his greatest role model, not some rampaging tyrant. There was nothing to fear.

“Yes, I am fine,” he took a deep breath and straightened his rigid posture. Getting distracted before an important dinner simply would not do. “Now, I have made myself late enough as is. I must be off. Goodbye, Claude.”

Outside the reception hall by Garreg Mach’s entrance, he found Ferdinand and Constance waiting for him, chatting excitedly. They both looked superb of course, Ferdinand donning an expensive tailored suit not dissimilar to Lorenz’s own, and Constance clad in a stunning flowing maroon dress. Lorenz would have knelt to kiss her hand were he not apologising for his rudeness and leading them to his car without delay.

Mercifully, once they arrived at the restaurant, Lorenz had all but forgotten about the phone call as its familiar interior greeted him. Elegant blacks and reds of the carpet and furniture, soothing classical music floating through the air, exquisite crystal lighting displays illuminating each table.

After being seated and brought menus without haste they proceeded to chat the night away, only stopping when their expensive meals were bought out. Lorenz ordered sparkling water for himself and requested a fine bottle of wine for his friends to share, quickly assuring Ferdinand that he needn’t worry about taking responsibility for the bill. After all, it was in poor taste to make the celebrant pay for their own birthday expenses, and no better to make a lady pay for two men.

As the night went on, the three friends continued to talk, laugh, order dessert and talk some more, enjoying the opportunity to treat themselves to such luxury. Lorenz found his content smile never left his face, not even when the topic of conversation turned to their fellow students and eventually to Claude.

“Dear Goddess,” Lorenz shook his head in amusement. “Are there so few topics of conversation left that you choose to bring him up?”

“Oh, hush now!” Constance scolded good-naturedly, punctuated by jabbing the meringue she had ordered. “Just because you think it’s silly, that doesn’t mean that I don’t wish to hear the latest updates!”

“Yes, precisely!” Ferdinand agreed emphatically. “Please, enlighten us. At the very least, have you managed to put your differences aside?”

Lorenz watched on as his companions gazed at him expectantly, musing as he sipped at his water. Helpless to their earnest inquisitiveness, he answered them truthfully and detailed the events that had happened since he last spoke to them. Their reactions varied from exasperated sighs to quizzical looks to bouts of laughter and at some of the more humorous stories Lorenz couldn’t help but join in on their rejoicing.

After many enjoyable hours, the celebration came to a close deep into the night and Lorenz paid the bill before leading his two friends back to his car. Along the way, they had gradually begun to speak just a little too loudly and laugh at seemingly everything. At the realisation, Lorenz could only click his tongue and shake his head at their inability to pace themselves.

Deciding to escort them back to their rooms for safety, and of course, to be a gentleman, Lorenz bid goodnight to Constance first and Ferdinand second then returned to his own room. In his good mood and subsequent exhaustion, he remained oblivious to the way Claude was glancing at him periodically, eyes filled with uncharacteristic disquiet. That night, sleep claimed him immediately after he collapsed into bed.

* * *

The next morning Lorenz woke later than expected.

He switched his phone on, unplugged and uncharged in his fatigue the night before, and his tired eyes widened as _10:49_ _am_ stared back at him. He immediately set off to begin his morning routine and fetch some breakfast, scolding himself for staying out so late like a common juvenile and thanking the Goddess that Ferdinand’s birthday had happened to fall on a Friday.

His morning so far full of surprises, Lorenz returned to the room showered, dressed and fed, to find Claude was still there. Normally by now, Claude would be out with his friends, doing whatever it was he did during the day but here he was instead, slouching in his chair and sipping from his mug of coffee. He wore a thoughtful expression on his face as he stared down into its murky depths.

“You seem quiet today,” Lorenz commented offhandedly as he scoured his planner for any tasks to be completed that weekend.

“Oh, yeah?” Claude asked. His tone was sharp, sounding equal parts like he was challenging Lorenz and genuinely curious for his answer.

“Indeed. For one, you’ve hardly said anything irritating and/or ridiculous all morning.”

“Well, thanks for worrying but I’m still the same painfully cool and handsome Claude as always,” he quipped. Lorenz could tell without looking up that he was wearing that familiar half-smile again.

“Painful, I can attest to,” Lorenz agreed, deadpan. “The rest of your self-analysis needs some work, however.”

Claude huffed a quiet laugh and the room fell back into silence. Lorenz sensed that the conversation wasn’t over but made no effort to disturb the peace, busying himself with the planner instead. Claude was perfectly capable of speaking up, if and when he found the words to do so.

“So, was yesterday… okay?” He asked after a few minutes of silence, his tone strained as if the question pained him to ask.

“It was splendid. A fine meal with fine company. Why do you ask?”

“That’s not what I meant.”

Lorenz looked up then, brows furrowed. “Then what do you mean?”

“The phone call, Lorenz,” Claude said flatly as if it was something incredibly obvious that Lorenz had missed. “You know, the one where you apparently had to lie to your dad about something totally innocuous and then started freaking out? None of that seems right to me, at all.”

Briefly stunned by his roommate’s audacity, Lorenz’s reply caught in his throat and he let out a choked sound of shock. “How dare you? First of all, do not eavesdrop on any conversations of mine that do not involve you. I told you yesterday that what transpired is none of your business and today, it is _still_ not your business,” for emphasis, he marched over to the board, realising to his chagrin that they were running out of room.

“Second, I did _not_ ‘freak out’. I was… merely caught off guard by the abruptness of Father’s call and believed that it would make me run late. A rational fear, I should think, since that is precisely what happened. You would do well to keep such presumptuous notions about my father and me to yourself.”

Claude held his hands up placatingly. “Okay, look. I don’t want you to feel like you have to defend yourself like that. I shouldn’t have asked that. Sorry for overstepping my boundaries. I was just… concerned.”

“Your concern is appreciated, however unwarranted it may be,” Lorenz murmured, quieter and calmer after his outburst. It was exceedingly rare that he spoke about his father to anybody else and the fervour with which he responded to a simple question surprised him. One thing was certain, if the atmosphere felt unpleasant before, then this feeling was something entirely different. Suddenly eager to leave the room, Lorenz retrieved his satchel. “Well, on that note, I must go and run some errands. Farewell.”

“Next time you speak to Gloucester Sr., tell him I say hi,” Claude said lowly as the door closed.

* * *

A week passed.

After his father’s warning, Lorenz turned his attention away from Claude and threw himself back to his studies in earnest, scolding himself for shoving his future aside in the first place.

Claude was back to his normal, obnoxious self and seemed to have forgotten about their earlier conversation. It was still unclear what exactly had prompted his concern but Lorenz resolved to move on without fretting about it, just as his roommate had. There were more important things to devote his time and effort to, namely the fact that exam season was creeping closer and closer and he had numerous practice tests and revision material to study.

Prepared to do just that, Lorenz entered his room, laptop and notes in tow, only to find Claude was already there and had beaten him to the punch. He had a determined expression on his face as he furiously wrote in his exercise book, so focused that he didn’t even hear the door open and close.

Normally in this situation, Lorenz would move to one of the revision rooms in the library: silent, secluded and tailor-made for studying without distractions. However, Claude seemed too engrossed in his own agenda to be disruptive. So, he sat down and began working his way through his multitude of material.

Initially, the task went smoothly and an hour passed without notice. It was shaping up to be a successful and productive session with many months of work solidified in his memory. However, one question on the page stood out, the answer surely somewhere within his notes or memory but stubbornly refusing to make itself known.

Lorenz frowned at the screen. This was a mere practice exam. It was unacceptable to struggle with something so insignificant when the real thing would later prove to be a much bigger challenge. He simply must try harder.

Twenty minutes passed. Lorenz stared at the words on his screen until the letters began to blur together. If anything, he was moving away from the solution, his concentration and productivity dwindling as his frustration grew. He sighed, swallowing his pride.

“Have you perchance completed Professor Hanneman’s chapter on strategic management yet?” He grit through his teeth, quashing the stinging humiliation of being bested by mere words on a screen and forced to turn to Claude for help.

“Stuck, are you?” That irritating smile was back in his voice. Claude was certainly going to enjoy what was to come next and as a result, Lorenz decidedly would not.

“Claude, I am serious,” Lorenz grumbled, slightly muffled from cradling his head in his hands in an attempt to preserve the last dredges of his patience. “I have wasted quite enough time mulling over this one negligible question. If you’re just going to make fun, then I will go and ask the professor instead.”

“Alright, alright, calm down,” Claude wheeled his desk chair closer to Lorenz, peering over his shoulder. “Which bit are you struggling with?”

“Question 13-B,” Lorenz highlighted the offending question on his screen. “One party in this partnership is neglecting their foreign trade and by extension, contributing less than what is reasonable given their vast amount of resources.”

“Not necessarily. See this part here?” Claude‘s voice was even and serious as if he were fully confident in his explanation. “Foreign demand has gone down for the time being so they’ve decided to allocate their funds elsewhere to more pressing expenses.”

“Do you not see the negligence in such a decision?” Lorenz countered. “Their neighbouring trades are sure to collapse if left unattended for too long. If anything, they should be attempting to mend their trades so as not to lose customers.”

“True, but that won’t become a threat immediately so it’s not worth worrying about so soon,” Claude pointed out. “That’s not negligent, it’s just not being wasteful. A better investment for this half of the partnership would be, for example, refurbishing their newer establishment in preparation for when trade opens up again.”

“I… see,” Lorenz said in astonishment, eyes wide as the pieces began to fit together in his mind.

“Right, and if you think about the implications of... _that_ part,” Claude nudged Lorenz’s hand out of the way to reach for the touchpad and highlight a different line, “you’ll see that that’s exactly what they’re doing. So they’re not contributing less than they should be at all. They’re actually doing exactly what they should be given the circumstances,” he retracted his hand. “Does that help?”

“I admit I had not thought of that,” Lorenz confessed. There it was, the tiny detail he had missed, the answer he had been searching for this whole time. How had he missed a solution that was so plainly obvious? He shook his head slightly; that was unimportant now. What mattered was he understood and could finally move on with his revision. “I… Thank you, Claude. That helps tremendously.”

Claude grinned, all traces of his earlier mischief or devilish glee gone. “Yeah? Well, I’m glad to hear it.”

Long after Claude had wheeled back to his own desk and resumed his study, Lorenz’s eyes remained fixed on his laptop but blind to the words before him. He had remained transfixed on one small detail of the question’s passage that the bigger picture had eluded him. And Claude had solved his conundrum effortlessly, simply by observing the problem from a different perspective.

Such practical, nuanced insight was entirely unexpected from Claude and Lorenz knew he had underestimated him. Not for the first time, and undoubtedly not for the last. A smaller piece of the puzzle that was his roommate had been revealed but Lorenz was no closer to understanding the full truth of who, exactly, was Claude von Riegan.

He focused his eyes, looking to the next unanswered question. There would be time to worry about such things later after exams were over and he could breathe easier.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter ended up being a bit different than expected. Lorenz's relationship with Claude is (briefly) sidelined to focus more on his relationships with Count Gloucester, his noble buddies and the rest of the Golden Deer. This fic was never going to just be about Claurenz (although that is certainly a large part of it) so I'm really excited to focus on his life outside Claude and make him more 'multifaceted' ;)
> 
> Also, re. Count Gloucester. I headcanon that the reason Lorenz holds himself to such a high standard is because he's afraid of his father. He's afraid of the power/authority he has over him as both his father and leader of House Gloucester, afraid of losing his noble title, afraid of failing him and bearing the brunt of his father's wrath, etc. That is what my characterisation of CG is based on since we don't learn a lot about him in canon, but I hope my portrayal doesn't upset anyone with how... dodgy he is.
> 
> Stay tuned for a lighter, more slice-of-lifey chapter soon! If you've been waiting for the friendship to finally kick off then this one's for you <3


	7. Your Integration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fires are lit and put out as seasons change and growth is the only constant.

During the next week, it had become something of a routine for the two roommates to find themselves quietly studying in their room, backs to each other and the room completely silent save for the scratching of Claude’s pencil and the clicking of Lorenz’s keyboard.

Wednesday in particular happened to be a bit different. Lorenz studied diligently for his literature exam, while Claude, having put his study on hold for the day, was sprawled out on his beanbag playing a video game. Thankfully, he at least had the sense to mute it without Lorenz asking, though the clicking of his controller was somewhat loud. Lorenz’s first instinct had been to scold Claude for his irresponsible behaviour before he remembered Rule Four.

“ _Very well then,”_ he had thought, “ _if Claude wishes to fail his exams in a senseless act of self-sabotage, then so be it.”_

Then he recalled how Claude had been the one to come to _his_ aid several days ago and a part of him knew that that wouldn’t happen. After that day, Lorenz had come to accept that Claude was intelligent in his own right and, like any other person, applied his own strengths and unique viewpoints to solve problems. Indeed, Claude may act like a fool, and play the part especially well, but Lorenz had his suspicions that he was quite the opposite.

However, Claude seemed to rather enjoy testing the boundaries of this theory, whether he knew it or not. There was a strong possibility that his last utterance was the most inane thing he had said in the entire two months since he came barrelling into Lorenz’s life.

“I beg your pardon?” Lorenz questioned, turning his head to eye him suspiciously.

“I said,” Claude barely tilted his head in Lorenz’s direction, eyes fixed on his TV, “have you ever thought about taking a break from studying?”

“Preposterous,” Lorenz turned back to his work with an incredulous scoff. Such an illogical notion didn’t deserve his full attention.

“Not really,” Claude stated matter-of-factly. “You’ll get stressed out if you take on too much at once, then you’ll hardly be able to concentrate.”

“While that is a charming idea, I, unfortunately, have no such option. My grades are far too important to sacrifice precious study time doing something so careless, especially at a time like this,” Lorenz suppressed a wistful sigh. “Though I will admit, the idea is rather enticing.” Deep down, he sometimes wished he wasn’t saddled with such burdens, but such ungrateful thoughts were swiftly suppressed. He had much to be thankful for and he knew it.

“So do it then,” Claude urged. “I get what you’re saying, I really do, but you won’t fail all your exams if you just go out, get some tea or something and come back. It’d take, like, an hour tops.”

“Alas, I cannot,” Lorenz paused, a hand to his chin as he mulled over Claude’s words. “Perhaps I will allow myself a break once exams are over since you feel so strongly about it for some bizarre reason.”

“That’s kind of missing the—“ Claude cut himself off, sounding exasperated. “You know what, sure. I’ll hold you to that, okay?”

* * *

It had been one week since the first day they had studied together and after ample study and waiting in anticipation, exams were blessedly over.

“ _So_ ,” Claude began, drawing the word out. He hung off the edge of his bed, looking expectant as if he were waiting for Lorenz to catch onto something despite the fact that nothing of note was currently happening.

“So,” Lorenz repeated flatly, a brow quirked.

“So how about that break we rain-checked?” Righting his posture, Claude folded his arms, a pointed expression on his face. “Exams have been over for a good couple days now and you’re still the same, overzealous Lorenz.”

“Ah. I had forgotten,” Lorenz shifted uncomfortably. Since when had relaxation had been so difficult for him?

 _“Since Father decided to check in those few weeks ago,”_ his mind helpfully supplied.

But Claude was right. His exams were behind him now and after spending so much time preparing, Lorenz was sure he would have excellent results to report in a short time. Surely a brief period of respite couldn’t hurt?

He stood up, retrieving a coat. “Very well, please allow me to treat you to tea.”

“Wait, what? Why do you want me to with you?” Claude tilted his head in confusion.

“To repay my debt, of course.”

“Debt?”

“Last week, you’ll recall that you assisted me with my revision. It’s somewhat embarrassing, but I must note that the grade for my business applications exam would have suffered without said assistance,” Lorenz stilled, a deliberate pause for Claude to heed his words. “As such, I am indebted to you and it is my duty to return the favour in some way.”

For a few moments, Claude merely sat, looking perplexed. Then he closed his eyes and shook his head. “You’re a dumbass.”

Lorenz huffed, placing a hand on his hip. “You’ll _also_ recall that I do not appreciate such vulgar language used against me. Now please come along. If we dawdle, the afternoon rush will ensure we will lose our chance to seize a table.”

A short time later, Claude gazed around the interior of the Tea House, chewing on the end of his straw. “I can’t believe you of all people would frequent a place like this. It’s so… _normal_.”

“Modest it may be, but this establishment brews a delectable tea,” Lorenz agreed, looking over the familiar area with a relaxed smile on his face. It was true that the Tea House was far removed from the grand mansion he called home and lavish restaurants he frequented as a boy but the simplicity in this place, as well as the employees’ immense skill in their craft, brought him a sense of comfort. “Speaking of which, refresh my memory; what did you order?”

“I think this one was called pine something?” Claude slouched against his chair’s backrest, a hand fiddling with his hoodie’s drawstrings absentmindedly. His eyes shone with something undefinable. “Does that ring a bell? You’re the tea expert, not me.”

“Almyran pine needles? I have not yet tried it myself, but I have heard that the taste is quite polarising,” Lorenz commented as he eyed the dark concoction. “A bold choice for one unaccustomed to drinking tea such as yourself,” he added, lips quirking with his appraisal.

Claude shrugged noncommittally. “Yeah, well… I just thought the idea of a drink with pine needles in it sounded interesting, so I wanted to try it,” he took a small sip, eyes crinkling at the taste. “It’s not bad, I guess.”

“I recommend that you come here more often. Some of the blends offered by this extensive menu have truly fascinating ingredients and flavours that are uncommon elsewhere,” Lorenz’s eyes roved over the menu on their table, marvelling at the variety of beverages even though he had seen it dozens of times by now. “For example, my preferred order is laced with rose petals, and even that is quite tame in comparison to others.”

“Let’s just forget about the tea for a minute, shall we?” Claude gave a short chuckle, the hand not curled around his cup rubbing the back of his head. “We’re gonna be here all day at this rate. I’m still hung up on what you said before, about being indebted.”

“It is as I say. You took time out of your own agenda to assist me last week. Thus, it is my duty as a gentleman to return the favour. That is why we are here right now,” Lorenz sipped his tea. “Is there a problem?”

“Again with the duty… I helped you because you needed help, not because I was expecting something in return,” briefly darkened by his frustration, Claude’s eyes softened slightly. “Is that really such a foreign concept to you?”

The question caught Lorenz off guard and he looked down to stir his tea, more to avoid eye contact than for any other reason. What was so wrong with his line of thinking, the way he was raised to consider the world, that Claude continuously found flaws and fallacies to disagree with and denounce?

At his lack of an answer, Claude sighed, looking dejectedly to the passersby outside. A heavy silence hung in the air. “Maybe we should head back.”

* * *

Somehow, Lorenz had been roped into another gathering with that Golden Deer group, a joint celebration for Raphael’s birthday and a unanimous breath of relief that exams were over.

Claude was acting more distant than usual but also kept up a friendly exterior. He still smiled and joked and conversed but his words were clipped, coupled with smiles that never reached his eyes and half-hearted laughter. The whole situation gave Lorenz the impression that nothing had happened at all despite the tension between them being thick enough to cut with a knife.

He knew that their uncomfortable conversation at the Tea House was undoubtedly the cause but was unsure how to approach the situation. He had learned from their last confrontation to think twice before attempting to handle such situations but the state of affairs was distinctly different to last time.

So, despite his unease, he decided simply to wait and see, to pay Claude no mind and enjoy mingling with his peers in the leisurely environment of the recreations room.

Despite his less than stellar first impression of the Golden Deer as a whole, Lorenz found the group gradually began to grow on him. They were still as loud as a group of excitable children and acted like one too but even so, he couldn’t help but admit that Claude had been right in bringing them together.

Lorenz quickly learned that Lysithea’s innocent, even cute exterior belied a dangerously short fuse. He praised her admirable determination to learn, adding an offhanded comment about the great things she will go on to achieve in her future for good measure, only to grow flustered when she snapped at him unexpectedly. Learning his lesson, Lorenz respectfully withdrew, confusion colouring his features as she stalked off to inspect the selection of snacks everyone had brought. It was merely a compliment after all.

Marianne was a sweet girl, possibly the gentlest soul Garreg Mach could offer. It was truly a shame she held herself in such low regard, avoiding eye contact, posture closed-off and lethargic, hushed voice riddled with self-deprecation. She seemed loathe to divulge any details about herself but Lorenz smiled warmly when she revealed her love for animals and desire to become a veterinarian. Personally, he would never be able to stomach such unsanitary work himself, despite his fondness for horses, but Marianne’s soft smile when talking about something clearly dear to her reminded him of flowers blooming on a beautiful spring day.

Raphael remained as cheerful as ever and Lorenz almost needed to shield his eyes from the brightness of his smile when he wished him a happy birthday, a beaming Ignatz watching on. Knowing them to be more insightful than their appearances would suggest, Lorenz shared his latest problems regarding Claude and in return, received some heartfelt and much-needed advice to ponder when he was back in the privacy of his room. They were truly kind and dependable people and upon informing them of such, Lorenz was met with a pair of joyous grins.

As their talking rapidly devolved into quarrelling, it became obvious that Leonie was someone whom Lorenz shared little to nothing in common with. But despite her brash, tomboyish personality contrasting sharply with his prim and proper, elegant ways, it was easy to tell that Leonie held a fire within that was demonstrated by her rowdy and competitive nature. If nothing else, Lorenz could appreciate such boldness even if their argument about coffee versus tea was currently preventing him from doing so.

Despite her status as one of Claude’s closest friends, it was rare that Lorenz was presented with the opportunity to speak to, or even see Hilda. Even today, she seemed intent on keeping her distance from him as Lorenz spied the two friends whispering together just out of earshot. The sight gave him pause, doubts flooding back into his mind and he resolved to pay her no mind, just as he was with Claude. Much to Lorenz’s annoyance, she eventually foiled his plan by cornering him and asking sweetly for him to go to the café and replace the drinks that were running low. Watching her pop her pink bubblegum and twirl a lock of similarly bright hair around her finger, Lorenz, of course, agreed and tried with all his might to not dwell on what he saw.

It appeared that Lorenz was the only one to remember that it was a weeknight as afternoon threatened to blend into evening with no sign of the celebration stopping. His enthusiasm finally ran out when his fellow Golden Deer began animatedly discussing leaving the campus to find a diner somewhere and he announced to them that he was turning in for the night. It was humiliating being the first person to leave, even more so when Hilda, Claude and Leonie began playfully jeering at him for his uptightness and yet he left anyway.

It was true that there was only so much excitement Lorenz could endure before growing exhausted and true as well that he had a class in the morning. But as he checked his phone and realised that it was only nearing 7 pm, he realised he would rather be alone in the dark and quiet dorm room, than facing the source of his growing apprehension.

Ignatz and Raphael’s words, as well as his own judgements, weighed on his mind but he found that he didn’t presently have the energy to dissect them. That night, Lorenz went to bed much earlier than usual, thankful for a quiet night as Claude didn’t return until long after he was asleep.

* * *

Claude had fallen back into the habit of spending the majority of his time out of their room, away from Lorenz.

Ignatz had sounded sympathetic but assertive as he urged Lorenz to pinpoint the true cause of Claude’s unrest, Raphael appearing a bit lost but nodding emphatically all the while. Lorenz hadn’t truly considered the artist’s words until this dreary Sunday afternoon and as he leered at the whiteboard hanging above his desk, he understood now what Ignatz meant.

He reread the rules he and his roommate had taken turns conjuring until they could fit no more, alternating in purple and yellow markers before settling into black as they lost interest in separating their additions. It culminated in an astounding twenty-four rules dictating virtually everything the two of them could and could not do while in the dorm. Even Lorenz couldn’t remember the inspiration behind some of the more outlandish ones, likely written on a whim.

He had previously thought the board was a brilliant idea to help them reconcile and, usefulness aside, added a layer of homeliness to the room. Now he was certain that the thing was responsible for the barrier between the two roommates.

Now completely sure of what to do, he sent a message to Claude before dialling Ferdinand and Constance.

> **Direct Message**   
>  **Harpstring 23 2:19 pm**
> 
> **Lorenz H. Gloucester:** I have invited two friends over to our room. Be warned if you intend to return here soon.

He checked his phone a short time later, just as he opened the door to let his friends in before quickly pocketing it. No response, as he expected. Disregarding that, Lorenz welcomed them, both clearly concerned at being summoned so suddenly and brewed them tea as an assurance that nothing was wrong before launching into his explanation.

“Claude’s resentment stems from his belief that I am incapable of treating him as an equal, that much has become clear to me,” Lorenz dug through his desk drawer, producing an eraser. “This board is testament to that.”

“Don’t you suppose that doing away with such security will only lead to you falling back into old habits?” Constance pointed out, looking sceptical. “Doubtless, you’ll be back at each other’s throats in no time!”

“You may be right. But as I have painstakingly learned, too much freedom merely results in the two of us getting on each other’s nerves. The rules were intended to combat that but restricting our every move only caused the rift between us to grow all the more noticeable,” Lorenz paced the room, hands folded behind his back as he reflected. “If Claude and I are to thrive in the same space, we must find the right balance of order and freedom. Thus, I will only remove some of the more unnecessary rules from the board and see if it accomplishes anything.”

He looked to Ferdinand and Constance for approval and was pleased to see they looked more receptive after hearing his full explanation. They were even willing to get involved themselves, helpfully offering their own thoughts and suggestions as Lorenz got to work tidying the board. Their company even resulted in the mundane act growing entertaining and time flew by without notice until, at some point later, the door opened.

“Whoa. Hey, everyone,” Claude wandered into the room, sounding slightly taken aback.

“Good day, Claude,” Lorenz answered. “Did you not receive my message?”

“No, my phone died. I just came back to grab my charger then I’ll be out of your hair,” he paused, taking note of the scene before him. “What’s going on?”

“I’ve decided to remove some of these rules. Many of them are unnecessary, only serving to create disorder disguised as order,” Lorenz explained without looking up from the line he was currently erasing.

“Disorder disguised as order, huh? Sounds treacherous,” Claude chuckled, his amused grin unnoticed. “Am I allowed to make coffee while you’re around yet?”

“Absolutely not. That is non-negotiable,” Lorenz said in the most serious tone he could muster, turning to shoot Claude a warning look for good measure. Claude’s laughter as he left could be heard even after he closed the door, the most sound Lorenz had heard out of him in days.

* * *

It wasn’t immediately apparent if the decision had been effective or not. This time the days melted into a week before Lorenz could say with confidence that Claude was acting like himself again, for better or worse.

One morning after an unusually restless night, Lorenz decided on a whim to brew himself a cup of tea then and there, rather than waiting until he could get his hands on his usual order from the café. After some thought, he opted for something to help him feel more alert in class later and used the water left over from Claude’s coffee maker to brew himself a cup of chamomile. A sleepy smile spread across his face as he took the first sip. Lorenz found that the first soothing sip of a hot drink in the morning was quite often the best one.

Unfortunately, that was not the case this time.

Claude, having returned from the communal bathrooms, suddenly threw the door open and Lorenz nearly spit out the drink in a panic. It only took a few seconds for realisation to strike Claude and he broke out into an irritating smirk

“Well, well, well,” he sauntered into the room, his tone teasing. “Look who finally decided to reveal that hidden tea stash I always knew he was lying about.”

“Claude, it is much too early for your nonsense…” Lorenz groaned as he buried his face in his hands. His cheeks burned with humiliation; he should have known that telling a lie would come back to bite him.

Ignoring him, Claude merely continued his taunting. “Never thought I’d see you lower yourself down to this level but I guess stranger things have happened. Tell me, how does it feel to walk on the wild side and break the rules like a common delinquent?” He laid a hand on Lorenz’s shoulder as if praising him, only for it to be shaken off without hesitation.

How like Claude it was to see the embarrassment plainly written on Lorenz’s face and immediately attempt to heighten it. Despite his indignation, it was oddly refreshing to see Claude so amused. Lorenz just wished it wasn’t at his expense, though such treatment was becoming rather commonplace as he spent more time around the Golden Deer. “ _So be it,”_ his mind whispered. It seemed best he could do was avoid lowering himself to their level.

“Is it so wrong of me to attempt to reduce the effects of a dreadful night’s sleep?” Lorenz said defensively, beginning to pull himself together. Time spent chiding either Claude or himself was better spent readying himself for class.

“Lorenz, it’s fine. If you hate that sugar water they call tea in the café, you can tell me. I won’t judge,” Claude folded his arms behind his head, clearly enjoying being an annoyance. “But no, not even a little bit. I told you everyone I know keeps stuff like this in their rooms, didn’t I?”

“I fail to understand the grudge you hold against the café. Their tea may not be of the utmost quality but it’s hardly undrinkable either,” Lorenz wrinkled his nose in thought as he nursed his cooling tea. “Although I will admit, here is rather more convenient than— wait a moment. What do you mean you knew I was keeping it hidden?”

* * *

> **Group: FEAR THE DEER**   
>  **Garland 2 5:44 pm**
> 
> **Lorenz H. Gloucester:** Let’s play 8 Ball!
> 
> **hilda goneril~:** lorenz im screaminf wtf is this
> 
> **Lorenz H. Gloucester:** An accident, I assure you.
> 
> **claude von riegan:** sure it was
> 
> **RAPHAEL KIRSTWN:** yeah if you wanted a friendly competition you could have just asked!
> 
> **Leonie Pinelli!:** What do you mean friendly. I’m going to destroy you 8 ball is serious business
> 
> **Lorenz H. Gloucester:** Please. Do you really think I would have chosen billiards of all things to demonstrate my impressive technical prowess?
> 
> **Lorenz H. Gloucester:** Let’s play Solitaire!
> 
> **_Lorenz H. Gloucester set a new high score of 4,159 points in Solitaire._ **
> 
> **Lorenz H. Gloucester:** For Goddess’s sake, even Solitaire requires more brains.
> 
> **claude von riegan:** LOL
> 
> **Ignatz Victor:** :joy:
> 
> **Leonie Pinelli!:** Alright Gloucester you asked for it
> 
> **Lorenz H. Gloucester:** Oh, dear.
> 
> **_Leonie Pinelli! set a new high score of 4,703 points in Solitaire._ ** ****
> 
> **Leonie Pinelli!:** BEAT THAT
> 
> **Ignatz Victor:** Okay I’ll try my best!
> 
> **_Ignatz Victor scored 3,986 points in Solitaire._ ** ****
> 
> **Ignatz Victor:** Oh no… Maybe next time :sweat_smile:
> 
> **Lysithea von Ordelia:** All of you are imbeciles.
> 
> **RAPHAEL KIRSTWN:** we’re just having fun whats wrong with that
> 
> **claude von riegan:** dont worry about her raphael shes just scared she’ll lose ;)
> 
> **Lysithea von Ordelia:** Alright, that’s it. I’ll show you who’s scared.
> 
> **_Lysithea von Ordelia set a new high score of 5,062 points in Solitaire._ **
> 
> **Lysithea von Ordelia:** Amateurs.
> 
> **hilda goneril~:** u should join in 2 _@marianne von edmund_ i can c u lurking we r literally in the same room
> 
> **marianne von edmund:** Let’s play Snake!
> 
> **hilda goneril~:** um
> 
> **_marianne von edmund set a new high score of 946 points in Snake._ **
> 
> **marianne von edmund:** oh. i’m sorry. i was playing snake.
> 
> **_RAPHAEL KIRSTWN scored 381 points playing Snake._ **
> 
> **RAPHAEL KIRSTWN:** this game’s way better! the snake gets bigger when you feed him apples! :apple: :snake:
> 
> **Lorenz H. Gloucester:** This group was a mistake. ****

* * *

With some hesitation that slowly but surely dwindled with each new day, Lorenz eventually settled into the routine of brewing himself an evening tea to nurse while he did homework.

Intending to do just that, he set a pot of newly-fetched water down on his desk. As he rifled through his tea collection, silently deliberating to himself, a dark spot in the corner of his vision caught his eye and he glanced at the door. 

Ice ran through his veins and settled in his spine at the sight and Lorenz did a double-take, freezing in shock. Before he could think twice, he was snatching his phone from his pocket and sending a message to Claude.

> **Direct Message**   
>  **Garland 8 7:51 pm**
> 
> **Lorenz H. Gloucester:** Claude, where are you?
> 
> **claude von riegan:** huh?
> 
> **Lorenz H. Gloucester:** Where are you?
> 
> **claude von riegan:** dining hall w dimi and edel? why do you ask?
> 
> **Lorenz H. Gloucester:** Come quick. It’s an emergency.
> 
> **claude von riegan:** wait what
> 
> **claude von riegan:** ok im omw

Several minutes later, the door was torn open and Claude practically collapsed inside, his breaths coming out in loud heaves from seemingly running straight there.

“Wha— what’s the emer— emergency?” He gasped, slightly hoarse. Pained but distinctly concerned green eyes loosely scanned over the room before stopping on Lorenz. He trudged to the centre of the room, hunched over and hands planted on his knees as he attempted to collect himself.

“The door,” was all Lorenz could utter, weakly lifting a shaking hand to point in the offending direction.

Claude lifted his head. He looked at the door, then to Lorenz, then back to the door. “It’s a spider,” he stated, brows furrowed.

“Thank you, Claude, I was not aware,” Lorenz retorted, deadpan. He eyed the arachnid and its long, spindly limbs in disgust as it crept eerily slowly up the door. “What is it doing here? Would you kindly remove it? I cannot concentrate on my studies with that _thing_ in the room.”

“Oh, I get it,” Claude broke out in a wide grin, the one that told Lorenz he wasn’t going to enjoy the ensuing exchange. “I _really_ want to be annoyed right now but this is too funny. You’re telling me that your so-called emergency is just a case of arachnophobia?” He sputtered inelegantly, the breath he just caught leaving him quickly in a bout of hysterical laughter.

“Me, Lorenz Hellman Gloucester, _afraid_ of such a tiny, insignificant creature? How dare you?!” He folded his arms in a gesture of annoyance that was diminished somewhat by the noticeable twitching of his hands, suddenly overrun by a surge of energy. “I simply… do not wish to put my hands near something so unsanitary.”

Claude didn’t reply, instead having lifted his phone to his ear. Lorenz hadn’t an idea how the person on the other end could possibly understand him through his guffawing but alas, Hilda burst into the room soon after, announcing her presence with a loud whoop and an apologetic Marianne by her side. What followed was an incredible commotion wherein Lorenz attempted to muster up the courage to demonstrate his strength to the two women while the pair of nuisances that were Claude and Hilda watched on, the air filled with their rapturous laughter.

 _“If I must… Let us get this over with,”_ he thought, forcing his clammy palms to clench and chest to puff out in determination.

He began marching to the door only for Marianne to pass him before he could reach it. She effortlessly collected the spider herself with a piece of paper and a teacup before Lorenz could object and gracefully swept out the door, more at ease in her motions than he had ever seen her. Before she left, he could have sworn he heard her whispering gentle reassurances to the thing and a sense of bewilderment enveloped him at the observation.

Upon returning, thankfully spider-less, Marianne shyly approached Lorenz, teacup in hand. “Here’s your teacup. I stopped to wash it before I came back. I’m sorry I took it without asking,” she held it out to him solemnly, looking for all the world like she had committed a grave atrocity.  
  
Lorenz hesitated. He imagined himself emptying an entire bottle of dish soap into the cup and still being unable to drink from it without his spine tensing up in disgust knowing what it had been used for. “Thank you very much, but I believe you should keep it. Consider it a gift.”

Marianne looked up in surprise but any response she might have had was drowned out by a loud cackle from Hilda. Lorenz turned his head in annoyance to see the pair intently watching something on Claude’s phone. His own shrill, panicked voice cut through the air, causing him to grimace, the tips of his ears burning. Stalking over to them and leaning over to peer at the screen confirmed his suspicions: they had taken a video of him.

Lorenz swallowed a low groan of frustration. If he wasn’t already wholly certain, the entirety of that evening provided irrefutable proof that Claude was well and truly back to his normal, infuriating self.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope none of you are tired of the more fragmented chapters! I'll try to make the next one more traditional and less split up and montagey. Also those group chat exchanges are so much fun to write I live for them sjfpsnmedlk


	8. Lost and Found

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lorenz's birthday finally arrives. He gets more than he bargained for from roommate and father both.

Lorenz’s days were blessedly free of incident in the days following.

Claude continued to cause trouble here and there, Hilda even joining the fray on occasion, and yet Lorenz could hardly find it within him to stay annoyed at them. Not when such a momentous occasion was mere days away. His world had completed another rotation and his birthday slowly rose up from the horizon like the sunrise on a warm summer’s morning.

Nineteen. Truth be told, it wasn’t exactly anything special. In comparison, eighteen had brought with it the opportunity to vote, drink, open his own bank account and all sorts of other new and exciting prospects. Twenty-one would be when his adult life would finally begin in earnest; he would complete his study, move into his own property and begin the training for his imminent inheritance of the Gloucester Corporation. While nineteen wasn’t particularly noteworthy in and of itself, it brought him that small step closer to the rest of his life.

He had thought it childish to look forward to his own birthday even as he neared the end of his teenage years but did so all the same. The 13th day of the Garland moon was a day that truly belonged to him and he always treated it as such, setting aside time each year to do exactly as he pleased. Usually, this resulted in tea and scones at a quaint little bakery he had frequented since childhood, several hours patrolling the shopping districts and a manicure if time permitted, followed by a meal at whichever fine restaurant happened to strike his fancy.

However, something told him this year would be quite unlike past years. It was his second year at Garreg Mach and nothing seemed out of the ordinary to suggest such a thing but the feeling persisted regardless.

When the day finally arrived, a still and serene Sunday morning, no sooner did Lorenz wake than he was out of bed, too eager to see what the day had in store for him to waste it lounging around. In the midst of his morning routine, he noticed that he had unintentionally woken up Claude in his haste and held back a snicker as his roommate noticeably stifled a yawn.

“What’s got you so excited?” He murmured, swirling the coffee mug he must have brewed while Lorenz was out. He was resting his head in one hand, eyes drooping in a sleepy haze. Lorenz almost clicked his tongue at the display as he noticed it was nearing 9 am. If it was what he chose to do, then he would have to excuse Claude sleeping away the early morning on his days off.

“Today is a special day, Claude,” Lorenz responded with no small amount of pride. “It is the day I turn nineteen and I intend to luxuriate accordingly.”

“No kidding? Well, in that case, happy birthday. Sorry I didn’t get you anything, though. You should have given me more warning,” Claude gave his usual lopsided grin, its mischievousness diminished somewhat as he swallowed another yawn and reached up to run a hand through his already unruly bed hair.

“Hm. Truly unfortunate, though I think I will manage,” Lorenz, for once, indulged Claude’s jokes, too caught up in his own cheer to tear down the lighthearted atmosphere.

Claude gave a soft chuckle. “Guess it’s time I get up too,” he stood up and made for the door, taking his empty mug with him. “In case you’re gone by the time I get back, enjoy yourself today.”

“Indeed, I will,” Lorenz hesitated before continuing. “You as well.”

Claude gave a brief glance over his shoulder, throwing Lorenz one final grin, before leaving. Lorenz found himself watching the door for several moments after the fact and caught himself, returning to the precise task of combing his hair. He was not given much time to reflect on the pleasantness of their conversations as of late, however, before his phone began ringing.

Plucking it from the nightstand and peering at the screen, Lorenz’s eyes widened in astonishment.

> **_Father_ **

He beamed instinctively, before wiping his face blank as though someone was watching. Their last phone call may have left Lorenz feeling uneasy, but he was certain that would not happen again. After all, the circumstances were different today. Furthermore, hearing from his father so early in the day was a pleasant surprise indeed. He was surely eager to speak to his son and extend his best wishes and good cheer.

He took a deep breath, trying to rid his tone of his excitement, and answered. “Good morning to you, Father!”

“By the Goddess, Lorenz, why in the world are you so foolishly joyous?” His father answered by way of greeting.

The question took Lorenz by surprise. “I— what?”

“Answer the question, boy,” Gloucester barked impatiently. “You know I despise repeating myself.”

Lorenz swallowed heavily, a pang of resignation hitting him. “It is nothing, Father. I am simply in a pleasant mood today.” He had hoped in his excitement that this wouldn’t have to happen. Those worries had even been put to rest when he saw the phone light up with his father’s name. But it seemed his childish, narrow-minded optimism had clouded his judgement.

His father let out a low growl, undoubtedly sneering at the pointless exchange. “You would do well to not waste my time with such drivel,” he cleared his throat and the faint sound of a page turning could be heard in the background. “Moving on. I was speaking to von Aegir recently and learned that you should have received your exam results by now. Give them to me, before you waste any more of my time with unimportant nonsense.”

Ah. Of course, that’s what this was about. The ticket to his future, where achieving favourable results was the only thing that mattered. Lorenz cursed himself for being naive enough to get his hopes up. “Yes, that is correct. I shall send them to you momentarily.”

“Excellent. I don’t believe I need to remind you any longer to continue to do your utmost to honour the Gloucester name. Now then, matters elsewhere require my attention. Good day.”

Again, his father hung up without delay and a heavy silence filled the room. Lorenz stared at the black screen for a few seconds, reaching to rub at his temple. A weary sigh tore itself from his lungs.

It wasn’t the first time he had forgotten. His father had always been a busy man and his duty in commandeering the business had taken up more and more of his time in recent years, to the point where he hardly found the time to mark significant dates on the calendar. Lorenz understood, of course. He knew that it was trying work to be a Gloucester and in just a few years time, he too would know firsthand the trials and tribulations of being a Gloucester _and_ a successful businessman. It was, like many occurrences in Lorenz’s life, both spoken and unspoken, for the good of the Corporation.

Lorenz understood. He would always understand.

But that understanding could only go so far, and failed to stop the ugly feeling of disappointment running hot through his veins and pooling in his heart.

As if the situation wasn’t disheartening enough, Claude chose that moment to re-enter the room. His footsteps, soft on the floorboards, halted for a moment as he took in the sight of Lorenz with his head in his hand and radiating displeasure before slowly resuming.

“What’s wrong?” He asked tentatively.

Lorenz sighed again, quieter this time. In that moment, he hated himself. Hated the way that the strength of his upset changed his demeanour so strongly that Claude, irritatingly observant and perceptive and decidedly _not-a-fool_ , instantly noticed the difference. Hated the way that he felt such upset at all. Baron Edrich Gloucester had always been an exemplary role model whom Lorenz was proud to call his father. For him to worry about such trivial things when he had much more important things to do was simply illogical, and even more so for Lorenz to expect such things from him.

“Nothing you need to concern yourself with,” he eventually answered, gathering his satchel to finally leave the room, leaving a bewildered-looking Claude in his wake.

Due to his earlier reservations, Lorenz had foregone planning the day out as he usually did, though he supposed his current mood would have resulted in him abandoning them either way. Not having anywhere else to go, he drove himself to the shopping district and wandered for perhaps hours, perhaps minutes, eyes roving around at the different stores that he for once had no interest in investigating.

Despite what he told himself earlier, Lorenz was powerless to stave off his foul mood, which in turn, only made the feeling worse for reasons he couldn’t explain. The best he could do was resolve to simply not think about the resentment, pulsing like an open wound between his ears and behind his ribs. The busy environment of the shopping district served as a welcome distraction, bright chatter from the many passersby and air fresh in his lungs.

Sometime later, morning became afternoon but Lorenz continued to press onward with no destination in mind. Eventually, his legs and feet began to complain from exhaustion as well as his stomach and throat in having foregone his morning tea and breakfast.

He had been seated at the first unfamiliar café he came across, sipping tea that hardly tasted of anything for barely five minutes when his phone vibrated. He frowned, lacking the patience to answer it currently, whether it be Claude wondering where he went, Ferdinand extending his best wishes or Father demanding those exam results Lorenz had promised.

So, he did something he seldom did and ignored it. Miraculously, the world didn’t immediately collapse in on itself at his uncharacteristic carelessness, though his phone stubbornly refused to quiet down. He huffed in annoyance, tearing the thing from his pocket.

> **Group: FEAR THE DEER**   
>  **Garland 13 1:47 pm**
> 
> **claude von riegan:** time to execute the plan ****
> 
> **claude von riegan:** come to room 111 in dorm b and knock quietly
> 
> **claude von riegan:** then we play the waiting game
> 
> **Ignatz Victor:** Got it! :thumbs_up:
> 
> **marianne von edmund:** i’ll do my best.
> 
> **Leonie Pinelli!:** Lets do it!
> 
> **RAPHAEL KIRSTWN:** i hope you got a good cake!

Lorenz squinted in confusion. Room 111 in Dorm B was, of course, he and Claude’s room and it appeared that everyone was meeting there for some reason. For something that had clearly been organised and discussed at some point prior and that all of the Golden Deer were invited to. Except him.

Lorenz’s blood boiled. He had little interest in their antics, especially today of all days, but to exclude him from a gathering of some sort, only to brag about it in the group chat where he was sure to see it was beyond rude. He typed out a scolding riddled with some choice words but paused before he could hit send. Surely this was some sort of misunderstanding.

> **Lorenz H. Gloucester:** What nonsense are you all up to now? And why have I been excluded? Am I missing something?
> 
> **claude von riegan:** wAIT SHIT
> 
> **hilda goneril~:** CLAUDE YOU DUMBASS
> 
> **hilda goneril~:** :skull: :skull: :skull:
> 
> **Lysithea von Ordelia:** Well done, Claude. You’ve foiled your own plan. ****
> 
> **Ignatz Victor:** Whoops… :fearful:
> 
> **Leonie Pinelli!:** All of you shut up, youre making it worse!

A flurry of panicked messages all at once, then the group went silent. How utterly bizarre.

It was clear that whatever he had stumbled upon was not meant to be seen by him, which only exacerbated his confusion and anger. Claude really was hosting some sort of event without him, inviting the Golden Deer over to their shared room for a shindig without even informing him, much less inviting him. The _utter nerve_. Lorenz had thought Claude was past such underhanded and deceitful sneaking but apparently not.

At the very least Claude had been careless enough to reveal their location, presenting Lorenz with the perfect opportunity to march right over and demand an explanation. Which he was sure to do, right after he finished his tea, of course. It wasn’t particularly good, but he was loathe to waste it.

The second he had finished, he left the café, stalking through the mall back the way he came, ignoring the odd looks from passersby at his deep frown and brisk strides. As he hurried, he wondered distantly if the Deer would even still be there by the time he made his way back, or if they would have dispersed or moved somewhere else as soon as their cover was blown. No matter, he decided, Claude would receive an earful of reprimands from him regardless.

Back in the dormitory, Lorenz remained oblivious to the serene silence as he made his way down the hall and neared their room. He wasted no time in unlocking the door and shoving it open, half expecting to see seven startled faces turn and gape at his sudden entry, only to find the room completely empty.

Annoyance growing into seething fury by the second, he ventured further into the room before he stopped, noticing something on his desk that wasn’t there that morning. A bright yellow sticky note, stuck to the top side of a box and covered in a familiar scrawl.

> _Lorenz_
> 
> _Went to study with Dimitri then sleeping over with Hilda. See you in class tomorrow_
> 
> _\- Claude_
> 
> _PS help yourself to the fridge just for tonight. You’re welcome_

Lorenz flipped the note over. Seeing nothing on the back, he flipped it back to the front. He read it again and again, expecting, hoping for the words to say something different each time. Yet, there they were, as clear as day. He stuck the note back on the desk and turned his attention to the box instead. It was small and cardboard with nothing special about it. Inside it was where the real spectacle lie.

More boxes, smaller boxes of Sweet Seiros brand rose petals. Twelve bags of his favourite tea.

What could _possibly_ be the meaning of this? Claude had, unfortunately, been privy to Lorenz’s dismay earlier that morning. He hadn’t learned the reason behind it but had seen its effects all the same. Yet, here he was, presenting Lorenz with this gift as a token of, what? Pity? While making no mention of what transpired earlier in that note of his, despite that clearly being the cause for this treatment? And what of that odd text exchange? The room was near spotless, showing no evidence that anyone had been there. Had that merely been a trap to lure Lorenz back to the room? Bait that he had taken, hook, line and sinker?

Before he could catch himself, Lorenz’s phone was pulled from his pocket and up to his ear. Five dials, then a click.

Lorenz began his tirade instantly. “Claude, I am not in the mood for your idiocy. Come back to the room at once and tell me—“

“Claude von Riegan. Leave a message,” his tinny voice replied.

Caught off guard, Lorenz could only flounder inelegantly as his words failed him. He gave up quickly, hanging up and depositing the phone on the desk with a sigh. He looked to the box of tea again, picking it up and inspecting it closely. It was brand new and unopened, without a doubt purchased that very day, unless Claude had been hiding a mint condition box of Lorenz’s favourite tea in their room for some inexplicable reason. It wouldn’t have been the strangest thing Claude had done in his time at Garreg Mach, yet Lorenz eliminated the possibility all the same.

Perhaps it was a good thing Claude didn’t pick up, for Lorenz hadn’t an idea what he expected to hear. Furthermore, he very much did _not_ want a repeat of the last time Claude was unfortunate enough to witness the fallout of Gloucester phoning unexpectedly. Perhaps Claude had learned his lesson about crossing boundaries from that last encounter. Perhaps he had noticed Lorenz’s distress but happened to be feeling merciful. Perhaps he—

A sudden knock at the door startled Lorenz out of his introspection and he yelped, almost dropping the tea, before hastily setting it down. He rushed to answer, half expecting to see Claude, and was instead pleasantly surprised, if only a tinge disappointed, to see Ferdinand’s beaming face.

“Good day, my friend!” He said cheerfully. “I am here to wish you a happy birthday! I visited several hours ago, but you were not here so Claude told me to come back later. It is good to see you! May I come in?”

Lorenz invited his friend in with a small, “Yes, of course and my sincerest thanks,” and took the gift from his hands, unwrapping it. Ten bags of Leicester Cortania, the most premium and well-regarded tea of Lorenz’s homeland, rightfully so. Lorenz had tried it several times before and its sheer quality was something to be admired.

Minutes later, Ferdinand was settled in, sipping thoughtfully from a freshly-made cup as he eyed the box on the desk. “Your favourite, is this not?” He asked, gesturing to it with the cup. “It seems someone here truly knows you well!”

“Yes, that was from Claude, though I would not go quite that far,” Lorenz shook his head. “I mentioned my taste for it one time in passing so it’s more likely that he simply has rather the impressive memory.”

“A kind gesture all the same.”

“Do you think that’s all there is to it?” Lorenz frowned, brows furrowing.

Ferdinand stilled, cup halfway to his mouth. “Pardon?”

“A kind gesture, simply done out of the goodness of his heart?”

“Er… yes? Do you believe otherwise?” Ferdinand wore an odd, perplexed expression on his face. One that reminded Lorenz of his friend’s first brush with Claude in the classroom three months ago.

“I received a phone call from my father this morning,” Lorenz explained. Ferdinand uttered a quiet sound of understanding but let him continue. “Claude was blessedly not in the room while it happened but was there to witness the brief aftermath before I left. Then, when I returned here hours later, that box was waiting on the desk for me.”

“Peculiar indeed,” Ferdinand murmured, nodding his head slowly.

“‘Peculiar’ is putting it lightly,” Lorenz agreed with a quiet scoff. “I have far too many questions that remain unanswered, thanks to that voicemail of his.”

“If I may,” Ferdinand began, looking like he was choosing his words carefully, “I would like to remind you what your suspicion of Claude’s actions has led to in times past. If you do not want history to repeat itself, and I fail to see why you would, I would advise you simply accept this for what it indisputably is. A considerate gesture that he did not have to do but did anyway.”

Lorenz paused. _A considerate gesture that he did not have to do but did anyway._ “I had not considered that,” he relented. His friend was entirely correct, of course. Despite his earlier claim, it was Ferdinand himself who truly knew Lorenz better than anyone at Garreg Mach.

Ferdinand hummed. “Indeed. What I am sure he would most appreciate is a show of sincere gratitude when you next see him. Then, you simply carry on as normal.”

“Yes, I believe you are correct,” Lorenz shook his head at his own naivety. How foolish of him to come so dangerously close to making the same mistake he had made many times before. “Thank you for coming here today, Ferdinand. Your words are invaluable to me.”

“I am glad to hear it!” Ferdinand grinned, chin raised in pride. “Now, I believe you mentioned a phone call with your father? I have not heard a word of him in a while; how is he doing?”

If the question was asked a moment later, Lorenz may have choked on his tea. Fortunately, the Goddess took mercy and Lorenz brought the cup away from his mouth before he could suffer such an embarrassing fate. “He seemed… well,” he answered after a moment’s hesitation. It wasn’t a lie, there was simply not much information he could readily divulge.

“You do not sound so sure,” Ferdinand pointed out, a brow raised curiously.

“My father is a very busy man,” Lorenz said adamantly, more to himself than Ferdinand. “We were not able to speak for long before more pressing matters required his attention.”

Ferdinand deflated, eyes flicking down to watch the bottom of his teacup as he seemed to catch on. “Oh… My sincerest apologies, Lorenz.”

“The situation is as I say. There is nothing to apologise for,” Lorenz, too, had averted his eyes from his friend before his sudden downcast tone brought them back. “And for Goddess’s sake, do not look so guilty. You are not the one who for— well. That is to say, you have not done anything to put yourself at fault,” he added, scolding good-naturedly.

“‘Nothing to apologise for’?” Ferdinand repeated, an uncharacteristic edge to his tone and fire in his bright eyes. “Fathers do not forget or disregard their own children’s birthdays.”

Lorenz gritted his teeth, forcing out his next words. “Well… mine does,” he said calmly. Ferdinand did not respond immediately, wide, questioning eyes instead watching Lorenz’s as if searching for some sort of hint that belied his neutrality. The air remained tense in the quiet room. “Mine does. And I understand why. And I forgive him.”

“Do you?” Ferdinand challenged.

“Yes.”

“Truly?”

“Yes.”

Ferdinand sighed, shaking his head. “I do not understand, though I will concede. He is, of course, your father, not mine. I apologise for having dredged up such unpleasant feelings,” that subdued expression was back, reminding Lorenz somewhat of a kicked puppy.

“Nothing a warm cup of tea cannot fix,” Lorenz brushed him off, eyes looking pointedly to the open box on his desk. “Care for another?”

Ferdinand seemed to perk up at that, his smile a reassuring sight. “While that does sound lovely, I am due back at my room to study with Hubert,” he stood, gently placing the empty cup on its saucer. “Thank you for this time. We must do this again soon.”

“Yes, undoubtedly, and next time with Constance as well,” Lorenz stood, following his friend to the door to see him off, thanking him one more time for his gift before locking the door behind him.

That… admittedly could have gone better. Defensiveness really was quite unappealing on him, it seemed. Though, despite such unease, he supposed the conversation had been rather rewarding before it had turned sour.

Lorenz turned away from the door, silently taking in the empty room as he searched for something to occupy his time. He landed on Claude’s note, bright and eye-catching yet unassuming in its simplicity. Unusually complex, just like he who had written on it.

No, it was futile to reflect on Claude’s actions now. Whatever his intentions may be, the gratitude for the gesture and deep relief at the lack of commentary Lorenz felt was undeniable. Though he certainly didn’t appreciate being played for a fool. And he would make certain Claude would know as much next time they met.

Claude von Riegan, ever the enigma. A puzzle that, when observed from multiple angles, revealed no clues that pointed towards its solution, but merely more depth, more mysteries to solve.

An unsolvable puzzle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The feelings........ they are mixed.
> 
> Thanks a lot to my friend Caps, aka PunnyMints, for helping with this chapter's premise!


	9. From One Standard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lorenz and Claude part ways when summer break arrives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Lorenz Week dear readers!
> 
> This chapter happens to not line up with any of the prompts as I began planning it before I knew what the prompts were, but if I really knuckle down I might have another chapter out before the week's end so stay tuned!

Another Monday, another morning spent watching Professor Hanneman ramble about economics.

Lorenz had ended the tumultuous day prior by basking in the peace and quiet of his room, even receiving the uplifting alert in the evening that his mother had deposited a gift into his bank account. Then the pendulum of his life swung too far in the opposite direction and he woke up feeling unusually restless. The feeling was aggravating, like bugs crawling under his skin and rendering him unable to sit still and focus. A voice at the back of his mind told him that he had left something unfinished, a feeling that only grew as Claude strolled into the room and Lorenz remembered that he hadn’t seen him since his display the previous morning.

Lorenz grew frustrated quickly. He usually found himself effortlessly immersed in the lecture as the class could be interesting at times, not to mention important and _very_ worth listening to. And yet his mental strain only worsened when the cause of his unease leaned from his desk and attempted to steal his attention.

“ _Lorenz_ ,” Claude whispered loudly.

“What is it?” Lorenz hissed back despite every fibre in his body begging him to listen to the lecture.

“Summer break starts next week.”

“Yes, I know. Why are you telling me this?”

By way of answer, Claude lifted his phone and thrust it at Lorenz. It was unlocked and displayed a string of messages between him and Hilda. Lorenz pointedly didn’t read them, raising a brow at Claude. “What is this?”

“We’re looking to get the Deer together at some point to hang out. You in?” Claude smiled, clearly trying to persuade him.

Lorenz rolled his eyes. “Is this really something we must be discussing in the middle of a lecture?”

“Yes, absolutely. So, what do you say?”

“I say be quiet and let me focus.”

Claude scoffed quietly, withdrawing. “Fine, but I won’t forget. We’ll talk after class.”

“To the gentlemen in the third row,” Hanneman’s irritated voice addressed them suddenly, “kindly save your conversations for later, thank you.”

Lorenz lowly ducked his head in shame, a chorus of snickers from other students rising up around them. Claude, too, relented and leaned back to his own desk, the conversation temporarily forgotten.

“So, as I was saying—“ he began the minute after class ended, following Lorenz as he exited the classroom and began walking away to nowhere in particular.

“Apologies, but I must stop you there,” Lorenz interjected, a hand held up to halt him.

“Come on, at least hear me out. You haven’t heard the whole explanation yet.”

“No, this is another matter entirely. Something has been on my mind,” Lorenz paused to clear his throat. Claude waited patiently with curiosity in his eyes. “Thank you for my gift yesterday. I very much appreciate it.”

“Oh, yeah? No problem, I’m glad you liked it,” Claude gave an easy grin. “So, anyway, I think we should talk about our plans for the break with the other Deer so we can try to work something out.”

As Claude continued chattering, Lorenz smiled with relief, the uncanny feeling that he had dodged a bullet sweeping through him. Putting his doubts aside to thank Claude for his generosity and move on really was _that_ simple. Claude evidently thought nothing of the exchange either, if the way he immediately returned to his original topic was any indication.

“Well?” Claude prompted after Lorenz neglected to answer, too distracted by his observation.

Lorenz shook his head, feeling pinpricks of guilt stab him at having tuned his roommate out. “I’m afraid I simply won’t have the time.”

“You’re telling me that you’re busy all day, every day for the entire break?” Claude accused, eyes narrowed slightly.

“Indeed. I will be working closely with my father for several weeks.” In years past, he looked forward to observing his father at work, knowing the opportunity to be a source of invaluable firsthand experience. Now, however, he felt nothing. Not excitement, not dread, not anxiety. It was unsettling, to say the least.

The hushed sounds of their footfalls on the carpet were all that could be heard in the quiet hallway as Claude seemed to hesitate. “Suit yourself,” he said eventually. Another pause. “Any chance you’ll change your mind? I have an advanced chemistry class shortly so now’s not a good time but maybe we can cook something up in the group sooner or later.”

Lorenz sighed. Claude clearly wasn’t going to simply forget about this. “Very well, let us discuss it further later. Now, at the risk of breaking one of those rules we have so carefully crafted, might I suggest you at least _try_ to pay attention in class this time and not distract those around you?”

Claude shrugged, breaking out into one of those smirks that Lorenz had grown entirely too used to seeing on him by now. “No promises.”

* * *

> **Group: FEAR THE DEER**   
>  **Garland 16 4:53 pm**
> 
> **claude von riegan:** who heres excited for break
> 
> **hilda goneril~:** :woman_raising_hand:
> 
> **hilda goneril~:** feels like the semesters lasted a million years
> 
> **Lysithea von Ordelia:** Not me. There may as well be no break at all for all the studying I’ll have to compensate for.
> 
> **Ignatz Victor:** It’ll be nice to have some time off to relax!
> 
> **hilda goneril~:** how bout u _@marianne von edmund_
> 
> **marianne von edmund:** i suppose i don’t have very much planned.
> 
> **claude von riegan:** well it sounds like you have it all sorted out
> 
> **claude von riegan:** guess none of you have time for untitled golden deer summer celebration
> 
> **Lysithea von Ordelia:** Yes, that’s correct. I have no time for any of your childish schemes.
> 
> **Leonie Pinelli!:** Nope. Theres a new gym opening back home and a membership with my name written all over it
> 
> **RAPHAEL KIRSTWN:** wait really?? ignatz we should go check it out!
> 
> **Ignatz Victor:** That sounds nice and all but unfortunately I’m all tied up helping my brother with his work. Sorry :disappointed:
> 
> **claude von riegan:** all of you have plans huh? thats a shame since i already went and booked it today
> 
> **hilda goneril~:** time to rearrange your calendars :kiss:
> 
> **Leonie Pinelli!:** A bit counterintuitive to organise something like that without telling us dont you think?
> 
> **Lysithea von Ordelia:** Not to mention reckless.
> 
> **Lorenz H. Gloucester:** I agree. I fail to see why I must set aside time in my busy schedule, especially since I said to you mere days ago that I have absolutely no free time, did I not?
> 
> **claude von riegan:** you flaked from our last group hangout so you owe us this one lorenz
> 
> **Lorenz H. Gloucester:** If I say I’ll think about it, will you stop pestering me?
> 
> **claude von riegan:** perhaps
> 
> **Lorenz H. Gloucester:** In that case, I’ll think about it, though I promise you nothing.
> 
> **claude von riegan:** as for the rest of you if you find yourself bored on the 17th of the blue sea feel free to swing by derdriu in the afternoon and we’ll see what unfolds
> 
> **hilda goneril~:** be there or be a dumb 2d shape!!
> 
> **Ignatz Victor:** Are either of you going to tell us what to expect?
> 
> **hilda goneril:** no its a surprise
> 
> **claude von riegan:** come see for urself ;)
> 
> **Lysithea von Ordelia:** Ugh.

* * *

All too soon, it was time to bid goodbye to Garreg Mach.

Once his bags were packed and the room was near empty, save for Claude heaving the last of his own belongings into a travel bag, Lorenz shut the door without looking back.

“Hey, hey!” Claude’s voice protested from inside. The door opened, revealing his perplexed face. “You’re just gonna leave without saying goodbye?”

“You’re taking far too long,” Lorenz answered with an impatient huff. “Father will be expecting me before sundown.”

Claude disappeared and re-emerged seconds later with his bag in tow. “Well, I’m done now, so don’t worry. Your curfew will live on for another day.”

“Hm. Thank you for your consideration,” Lorenz deadpanned, watching Claude rifle through his pockets for something. “Do you have your keys? Let us not forget the time you misplaced them on your _second_ day here.”

“Ha! I remember that,” Claude produced the object in question from his pocket and turned, locking the door with a resounding click. “You were so annoyed, even more than I was.”

Lorenz could only scoff, starting down the hall to the elevator and forcing Claude to chase after him. “But of course I was. Your carelessness did _not_ make for a good first impression if you recall.”

“Yes, I do recall. Ah, the good old days, when I couldn’t go hardly a minute without you chewing me out for one thing or another,” Claude shook his head fondly as if looking back on pleasant memories. “Feels like forever ago, doesn’t it?”

“I think not,” Lorenz said matter-of-factly. “You are still just as much of an annoyance today as you were three months ago. I have simply learned how to tolerate you better.”

“You say that, but I bet you’re gonna go mad in the next couple weeks,” Claude grinned, the devilish glint in his eye shining. “I can see it now; you in your big, stuffy mansion, bored to death without me there to entertain you.”

Another scoff. “Hardly. I enjoy my time at home, thank you very much,” Lorenz paused, feigning deep thought. “I estimate a week at most before it is _you_ who becomes bored and returns to bothering me over the phone as if nothing had changed at all. If not you, then the rest of the Deer will surely fill that role. Some peace and quiet away from you all will surely not go amiss.”

“Yeah, I’ll bet. And on that note, I look forward to seeing the gang back together at Derdriu in a few weeks time,” Claude’s eyes seemed bright with mirth, content and in his element as he jested. “Including _you_ ,” he added pointedly, punctuated by lightly jabbing a finger into Lorenz’s shoulder.

“How many times must I tell you?” Lorenz sighed. “Due to my obligations as heir to the Gloucester Corporation, I lack the time and freedom to slack off, unlike the rest of you.”

“Yeah, yeah, you might have mentioned it once or twice,” Claude, too, sounded exasperated at his repeated refusals. Lorenz wanted to remind him that the easiest way to avoid hearing the same answer again and again was to simply stop asking, but such efforts would likely fall on deaf ears. “But still, it would be nice if you were lucky enough to end up with some spare time. It’s not going to be the same with one missing.”

Lorenz gave a light chuckle. “I appreciate the sentiment, though judging by the reception in the text chain two days ago, there’s going to be much more than just one missing.”

“Oh, just wait. We’re going to have a full turnout, I know it,” the smile was back in Claude’s voice, wholly confident in his baseless assertions. “Maybe if you came and saw for yourself, then— what the?”

It was at that moment that Lorenz noticed they had somehow made their way through the entrance hall and to the parking lot without him paying any mind. A black stretch limousine had pulled up in front of them, starkly out of place among the student’s cars in its polished-to-perfection state. Its windows were tinted to mask the driver or any potential passengers but the familiar ornament of the Gloucester family crest standing proudly on the hood removed any ambiguity as to who its target was.

“That’s odd,” Lorenz murmured aloud. “I was perfectly content to drive home myself.”

“Wha— this is for you?” Claude sputtered, eyes wide. “I mean, I knew you were rich but a _limo_? Don’t you think that’s a bit much?”

“Believe me, this is just as unexpected to me as it is for you. Father must have sent it, though why he did that I do not know,” Lorenz rapped a knuckle on the driver’s window, smiling at the familiar face that appeared behind it. “Good day, Bernard! It’s been a long time.”

“Indeed, it has!” The jolly man, a long-time Gloucester assistant whom Lorenz had known since he was a boy, answered with a hearty chuckle. “It’s good to see you, young Master. Who’s this? Made a friend, have we?”

Lorenz opened his mouth to answer but Claude beat him to the punch. “Hi there. I’m Claude von Riegan, Lorenz’s roommate. Nice to meet you.” He stuck his hand out, the action and greeting reminding Lorenz of when they met for the first time.

Bernard’s wide smile promptly slipped from his face and he muttered something under his breath, a low growl that sounded suspiciously like “ _Riegan_ ”. The air seemed to suddenly cool by several degrees as nobody said a word nor moved a muscle. Bernard made no effort to shake Claude’s hand, left awkwardly hanging in the air, instead levelling him with a stony-faced stare.

“Quite,” was all the driver said, his voice flatter and more emotionless than Lorenz had heard from the normally boisterous man in many years. The tense silence grew as Claude slowly retracted his hand, reaching up to rub the back of his neck in obvious discomfort. “Come along, Lorenz. We’d best not be late,” he added after a pause and rolled up his window with finality.

“I— yes, you are quite right,” he replied instinctually before realising with an inner scold that Bernard couldn’t hear him. A fact he would soon become immensely grateful for as he turned to bid goodbye to Claude and laid eyes on his dejected expression. “I apologise for that, Claude. I do not know what came over him. Such coldness is very much unlike him.”

“Yeah,” Claude said tersely, eyes fixed on the asphalt beside him. “Don’t worry about it.”

Lorenz moved a hand to the door handle but hesitated to open it. A powerful force, perhaps the Goddess herself at work, told him that there was more he needed to say but nothing of substance came to mind. “I— erm,” was all he could come up with, fumbling inelegantly before trailing off.

“Hey. He gave you an order, didn’t he?” Claude turned his head to toss Lorenz a smile, one that was bitter and didn’t reach his eyes. “Don’t make yourself late on my account. See you when I see you, I guess.”

Lorenz gave a humourless laugh. “Yes, you are correct,” he opened the door and settled in on the fine leather seat. “Goodbye, Claude. Do try to behave yourself without my supervision, won’t you?”

He shut the door, buckled his belt and the car began moving without pause. Through the back window, Lorenz spied Claude still fixed in place, watching motionless as the car sped off before Bernard rounded a corner and he disappeared from view.

* * *

It took several hours for the estate to loom into view.

Lorenz had expected as much, even though his hometown was quite close to Garreg Mach in comparison to those of his fellow Deer. Truthfully, Lorenz rather enjoyed long car rides despite the fact that he experienced them relatively infrequently. The monotony was, in a sense, relaxing and could prove stimulating from time to time. Perfect for thinking, which was precisely what he chose to do.

The occurrence in the parking lot had been a strange one indeed. Bernard had been hired many years ago as a multi-purpose butler and he was an intimidating man to some, thanks to his hulking stature and booming voice. But in all the years Lorenz had known him, all of the memories of his childhood that featured the man in some capacity, never had he acted so standoffishly, so outwardly hostile. The observation sent shivers down Lorenz’s spine.

And Claude, ever the source of disruption and confusion in Lorenz’s life. This time to reflect had confirmed in his mind that the utterance before, the single word that had caused such unrest, had indeed been the word Riegan. There was no mistaking it. Those who were particularly savvy may recognise the name as that of a known law firm, though when Lorenz attempted to parse its connection to Bernard, or why he may say the name with such contempt, he was helpless to come up short.

Eventually, he gave up. There were simply too many oddities, too many questions doomed to go unanswered that such retrospection was entirely pointless. Claude was surely just the victim of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Lorenz knew better than anyone that Claude’s initial impression had the unfortunate tendency to come off as uncouth to those of the higher class. They had briefly discussed as much that very morning, after all. The solution was simple, exceedingly so, he was in the process of convincing himself when Bernard had cleared his throat suddenly.

Lorenz jumped, having forgotten the man was there, as he was usually a force to be reckoned with in the field of conversation and small talk. However, what he had to say was not an interested question about how the year had been treating him or even a cheerful anecdote of his own university experience, but rather a plea that Lorenz stops associating with _‘the Riegan child’_. The title, like earlier, was spat from his mouth like a curse, though the request itself sounded foreboding of all things.

Knowing that all he could do was lie, Lorenz refused to humour him with an answer and instead requested he raise the privacy screen.

That was where he found himself when the car came to a stop and he stepped out, looking over his home. By venturing inside and taking a deep breath, filling his lungs with air after feeling like he couldn’t drag enough in while inside the limousine, one thing was apparent.

It was nice to be home.

The second thing he noticed, as he ascended the stairs to unpack and settle in, was that the house was quiet. The estate being in such a state wasn’t uncommon due to its immense size and the maids and butlers in their employment knowing better than to stand around making idle conversation, but the halls were silent enough to hear a pin drop.

Father must still be working, he realised with a slight frown. It would have been nice to be greeted at the door and welcomed home but such things were selfish to wish for when considering the importance of his father’s time.

Pushing open the door to his childhood bedroom and taking a series of slow steps inside, Lorenz promptly sneezed at the dust kicked up by the simple motion of setting his suitcase down. It appeared the maids had taken their promise to leave his room just as he had left it very seriously. His own bedroom being left in such a state simply would not do, he immediately decided, stepping away before he could lose himself in another bout of sneezing. Luckily, he spotted a single maid on his way back down the stairs and informed her of the predicament, brushing off the poor woman’s frantic apologies and assertions that she had simply been following orders.

Left with little else to do as he waited for his room to be tidied, he made his way to the backyard to check the progress of the garden since he left it last. Lorenz had always admired the beauty of a well-kept garden, alive with blooming flowers of all shapes, sizes, colours and varieties. Despite this fascination, he had shied away when his mother, one Iria Ivory Gloucester, offered to teach him as a boy due to not wanting to dirty his hands and his fear of the worms that lurked in the soil.

Mother had laughed, her son innocent and childlike and oh-so-precious in her eyes but nevertheless was content to garden while he watched with apt admiration. She was always masterfully dexterous and possessed a gift for cultivation, able to make flowers grow from seeds and saplings and buds in days almost as if by magic.

Lorenz looked back on the fond memories, smiling as he observed the set of blooming bushes. A long row of them made for quite the sight, the bright roses upon them dotting each bush in stunning hues of maroon, fuchsia, white and several other soft shades reminiscent of a beautiful sunset. His heart swelled with pride. He had always favoured roses, being a symbol of elegance, power and romance all at once, and the selection before him was no exception, undoubtedly the very centrepiece of the garden.

A voice called to him then, warm and familiar. “Is that you, my son? Goodness, it’s been far too long, get over here!”

He turned, faced with the sight of his mother emerging from the greenhouse, the arm that wasn’t carrying a large bag of potting mix waving frantically to him. He went, of course, and met her halfway.

“Hello, Mother! It is wonderful to see you as well,” he turned his attention to the heavy bag by her side. “Please, do not strain yourself. Allow me.”

“Oh, none of that,” she scolded playfully, eyes crinkling as she beamed. His mother was the proud owner of the widest and brightest smile Lorenz had ever seen on a person and though her youthfulness had diminished over the years as wrinkles and crow’s feet and silver hairs appeared, her joy and appreciation for life seemed to only grow. She dumped the bag on the ground unceremoniously and spread her arms wide in invitation. “I’ve missed you far too much to bother with such formalities. Come give your mother a hug, dear.”

He had little choice but to comply, especially when she seemed to tire of waiting for his guard to lower and forcibly gathered him into her arms, laughing all the while. As he grew older, it became increasingly apparent that Lorenz was to take more after his father as the ‘formalities’ that were largely absent from his mother’s conduct integrated themselves more and more into his own way of being. However, even he was not above relishing in and even reciprocating the casual but heartfelt ways his mother expressed her adoration. To this day, Lorenz would not consider himself a particularly physically affectionate man but such fleeting gestures would forever remain near and dear to his heart, and were as much home to him as the very garden he was standing in.

“How have you been, Lorenz? How is Garreg Mach?” She asked excitedly upon releasing him. “Come come, let us take tea and you can tell me all about it!”

Lorenz agreed immediately, the suggestion sounding absolutely divine as his weariness dissipated from merely seeing the smile she wore, earnest and loving and homely. The thought never left him, nor did his own relaxed smile as they chatted about events young and old until the sun went down.

* * *


	10. Not Everything

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lorenz reflects on a sobering conversation with his mother, pondering where his allegiances lie.
> 
> Written for Day 6 of Lorenz Week 2020: Ideals/Loyalty.

The next morning Lorenz woke to a silent room.

In his groggy state, it took an embarrassingly long time to remember that he was not, in fact, in his dorm room at Garreg Mach with Claude dozing off to his left, but rather in his childhood bedroom at his family home.

After grooming and showering to presentability, he made his way down to the kitchen where delightful smells were beckoning him. Inside, his mother was talking amicably with one of the maids, a newer one whom Lorenz didn’t recognise.

“Good morning, dear!” She greeted with her usual cheer. “Come, sit down. Would you like some breakfast?”

“A crumpet sounds lovely,” he murmured as he poured a cup of tea from the pot resting on the dining table. He heard a series of shuffling sounds as the maid got to work.

“That’s all?” She said in disbelief. “Little wonder you’re so thin. Have you been eating right at that academy?”

Lorenz waved off her concerns with a soft chuckle. “Not to worry, Mother. I assure you, I take the utmost care of myself.”

“You always did have rather the small appetite, I suppose…” she acquiesced with a shake of her head. “So, what do you think you’re going to do today? You must be excited to finally take some time off from those studies of yours!”

Lorenz sipped his tea as he thought. It was some sort of berry blend; a bit sweet but nothing he couldn’t handle. “I confess I haven’t given much thought to my plans for the next several weeks, beyond working with Father of course. It seems there are few suitable options for leisure as I am currently without my own transport.”

The statement wasn’t entirely true; if need be, Lorenz could simply take a limousine wherever he needed to go. But such a vehicle often generated quite the sense of grandeur in all its glory. Lorenz wasn’t opposed to this, but rather considered it unnecessary for a simple trip to the local shopping complex or the park.

“You don’t have your car? I didn’t know that,” Iria said, looking puzzled. “I suppose Bernard drove you here, then?”

“Indeed he did,” Lorenz paused again, pursing his lips as he hesitated to say his next words. He settled for waiting for his crumpet to be placed in front of him and thanking the maid before she scurried out the room. “That reminds me, Bernard acted quite… oddly yesterday and I have not been able to make sense of why.”

Mother looked up from her own teacup, eyes wide with intrigue and concern. “Oddly? Did something happen?”

“He appeared entirely normal up until the moment when Claude introduced himself, then became hostile. He cursed Claude’s name under his breath then attempted to persuade me to stop associating with him,” he took a bite of his crumpet and swallowed, giving Mother time to mull over his words. “I was hoping you could lend your insight, as not knowing the cause of such behaviour is most troubling.”

“That _is_ odd,” she mused, a hand to her chin in thought. A gesture, Lorenz noticed, that he had picked up from her. “I’ve never known him to do anything like that. Bernard wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

“Precisely what I thought,” he agreed, nodding his head.

The conversation lulled briefly. Iria worried at her lip, an unreadable expression on her face. She appeared in deep thought as if she were struggling to find the most effective way to convey her view. Lorenz took mercy, allowing her to think as he continued to eat.

“That Claude,” she began. “Is he a good friend?”

The question gave Lorenz pause, unexpected and only loosely connected to the current topic. “No,” he answered eventually. “He is a nuisance who derives much of his enjoyment from being a relentless source of irritation to me.”

Iria hummed. “I am doubtful. I think that’s what you believed a couple of months ago, and what you _want_ to believe now,” she smiled knowingly. “But you can’t, not after all the fun times you were telling me about yesterday. Him and that lovely group of friends you made.”

Lorenz nearly choked on his bite at her words. His reaction seemed to convince her she was correct and her smile grew even wider. “I suppose there may be… an element of truth in your theory,” he admitted after composing himself. “I fail to see what this has to do with Bernard, however.”

“I would advise you to not worry about it.”

Lorenz looked up, ready to protest but she continued before he could. “I know that’s probably not the answer you were expecting or wanting and that it may be hard for you to simply ignore. But it seems his motives are beyond your knowledge, _our_ knowledge at that,” as she spoke, her happy grin slowly morphed into something bitter and tight-lipped. “Let’s just leave your father out of this and forget it ever happened; it can be our little secret.”

Lorenz said nothing, replaying her words in his mind. The solution to the problem, as it turned out, was not a solution at all and rather underwhelming. But he couldn’t deny the truth in her words and silently agreed that it would be a fruitless waste of time to pursue the cause for such an insignificant event that would take a stroke of bad luck to even occur again.

So, he decided to comply with her suggestion and voiced his other question. “While we’re on the subject, where is Father? I did not see him at all yesterday.”

His mother seemed content to change the subject and answered him conversationally as she poured some more tea. “Yes, he didn’t come home last night. I suppose he’s entered a busy period at work.”

“He didn’t come home?” Lorenz asked, a brow raised in curiosity. “Are you not concerned at all?”

“Oh, no. He’s been spending his nights there, sleeping in his office for months now. Over a year perhaps, I’ve lost track,” she shook her head and tutted. “You know how he is. Work this, work that…”

Lorenz bristled, shocked on his father’s behalf that she would speak about their obligations so dismissively. “Father’s duties are very important—“

“Yes yes, dear, I know the work is important,” Iria looked at him with soft eyes, sounding suspiciously like she was humouring him. It did nothing to ease his displeasure. “But the Corporation isn’t everything. He has a family too, a wife and son who would like to see him from time to time.”

Lorenz was hardly given the chance to refute his mother’s outrageous claim before she had bustled out the room, off to get ready for the day. A twist of fate that was perhaps for the best as he had no means of responding to such a staggering string of words and would have made a fool of himself trying. When she poked her head back into the kitchen a short time later to say goodbye as she left for work, he distantly realised that he had remained seated there, mouth agape and mind blank as his tea went cold.

* * *

Lorenz would never forget those words.

Morning became afternoon became evening became the next day became the next week. Father and Mother and all of their employees went about their daily lives, coming and going. Lorenz himself spent much of his time in the garden or in the study, perusing old company records. It came to a head one evening and he found himself pacing in his room, his mother’s words echoing, taunting him all the while.

_The Corporation isn’t everything._

How ridiculous. What an impossible, asinine, absurd thing to say.

Of course he knew the Corporation was not _everything_ , he wasn’t an imbecile. He was, however, of the firm belief that it was his greatest priority in his life as a Gloucester and someday, when the time came for him to ascend the ranks and become the next head of the business, he would treat his newfound duties with the magnitude he knew they deserved.

It had been his privilege to be taught as much from the moment he knew how to walk and talk. Leading the Corporation was what he was born to do. Everything he did, every decision he made, would eventually lead to it and he was proud to shoulder such a remarkable obligation.

Mother ought to know of the Corporation’s dominion better than even Lorenz. After all, she was wed to its current CEO and had been aware and accepting of their responsibilities, her husband and son both, for far longer than Lorenz himself had. And yet, his dedication clearly far surpassed her own for some inane reason.

Could it be that she lacked faith in the business’s future, the direction Father was steering it? The fact that, to this day, Mother refused to retire from her own day job despite her efforts being redundant due to Father’s impressive income seemed to support as much.

Or perhaps she believed Lorenz was exaggerating about the depth of his duty, the astronomical weight he carried on his back at all times? Such a close-minded stance was certainly easy for her to employ. She married into the family while Lorenz was born a legitimate child of Baron Edrich Gloucester and Iria Ivory Gloucester. She had no such obligations to carry, no way of understanding precisely the sort of expectations that had been thrust upon Lorenz before he had even been aware of it.

_He has a family too, a wife and son who would like to see him from time to time._

An utterly preposterous sentiment.

Putting Father’s immense position as CEO aside, something that more than excused any excess time spent away from home, it was not as though Lorenz and Iria never saw him. Father had returned home in the evening the very same day the discussion that started this whole debacle took place. As did he the next evening. He may have quickly retired to his private study on both occasions but on the following morning, he came to Lorenz with the invitation to attend work with him.

He went without hesitation, of course, as he had been looking forward to gaining precisely this sort of experience. That was five days ago and Lorenz had spent every subsequent morning there in the head office, assisting with duties of all sorts, anything and everything Father had the time to afford sacrificing by teaching him. One morning, he had even been permitted to observe a business conference, a particularly exciting and unexpected offer that he had vehemently agreed to.

Clearly, Father was hardly neglecting them. Perhaps his efforts were insufficient in Mother’s eyes, but Lorenz couldn’t be more grateful to be presented with such valuable knowledge. If she truly felt that, despite all, Father was disappointing her, then the onus was on her to communicate this problem to him rather than merely complain about it to their son. Such a negligent course of action would decidedly _not_ solve any of her problems, rather it would only exacerbate them and cause even more to spring up. Lorenz and his restless state of mind were living, breathing proof of that. It was _her_ apathy that was the reason he was unable to remove such drivel—

Lorenz stopped pacing. His hands, balled into fists of their own accord, unclenched.

_Dear Goddess, what in the world has come over me?_

Coming a hair’s breadth away from mentally denouncing his mother like a common rebellious teenager, blaming his family for his own frustrating, distracting, perplexing, irritating state of unrest. How incredibly… immature.

Mother hadn’t done anything to warrant such ire. She merely held a difference of opinion to him. An opinion that Lorenz happened to disagree with by a considerable margin, but that he would likely not be able to change with his viewpoint alone. Iria had always been headstrong, steadfast in her beliefs. Selfishly pushing his own convictions onto her was doomed to fail before he could even begin to imagine how it would transpire.

Lorenz sighed, suddenly feeling exhausted. His fury dissipated, its presence unjustified and without sufficient reason to be expelled. Despite it all, one regrettable, negligible silver lining of truth stood out amongst Mother’s myriad of objectionable statements, one that he was powerless to ignore.

The Corporation was _not_ everything.

But it was close.

It was what Lorenz owed his life to. It was what gave him purpose. And for that, he would continue to do what he was bred for, as a Gloucester. Such was his role in life and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope none of you mind that this chapter is shorter and a bit different to the other ones. Writing something for Lorenz Week was kind of impulsive but I really wanted to do it so this is how it turned out in the end!
> 
> Also, kind of ironic but this is going up on Father's Day in Australia! So, happy Father's Day to literally every dad except Count Gloucester <3


	11. To Another

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summer break passes in a flash and Lorenz barely has time to collect himself as every waking moment is dedicated to working. Luckily, he's allowed time to slow down when one particular day turns out differently than anticipated.

At first, Lorenz was overjoyed to have stepped into the workforce, short-lived as his time there may be.

By the end of the first week, he felt as lively and productive as he did the first day and could hardly let himself settle down for the weekend. When his mother expressed her concern about the amount of work he had taken on, he was quick to assure her that it was nothing he couldn’t handle.

By the second, he had begun to slow somewhat but wrote off any doubts he felt as the need to adjust to his new schedule. Like his father so often did, he began to find himself lacking the time and energy to do little but retreat into his room as soon as they returned home.

By the third, the burn of fatigue had begun to lick at his heels, though he was loathe to admit it. His sleep grew restless and he ceased waking up feeling refreshed. His demeanour became irritable, impatient. One day he even snapped at Iria when she made a wry comment that the garden was growing lonely without him watching over it. He would come to regret taking out his ill temper on her later.

By the fourth, Lorenz could hardly pick up a pen without his hands cramping up in protest. His head pounded with every shrill ring of the office phone and his voice sounded flat and monotonous when he forced himself to answer it. His fingers felt clumsy as he could nary type a full sentence on the computer without his words being littered with grammatical and spelling errors.

He had known since he was a boy that an arduous future awaited him and as he grew older, likened his studies to tests of endurance to help prepare. But no amount of studying or classwork or exams could have prepared him for this level of intensity, wherein he could hardly find the time to catch his breath. He recalled Iria offhandedly mention that the Corporation had entered a busy period and could almost scoff at the understatement.

As each day passed, Father’s sighs grew longer and harsher as he witnessed his son’s shortcomings. His eyes grew colder, his frown deeper, the creases in his forehead more pronounced. His tone as he reprimanded him grew more dangerous each time. By the time they were well into the Blue Sea moon, Gloucester was seething, eyes alight with disappointment and scorn.

Time passed, agonisingly slow yet all too fast. Another business conference had been scheduled in Derdriu, the final week before Lorenz would depart for Garreg Mach, and, like last time, his presence had been permitted. Determined to make a change, he eagerly agreed to attend.

“Your mother thinks it would be best if you stayed home for your last week with us,” Gloucester said gruffly as they drove to the capital in the early morning. Lorenz’s eyes, drooping with poorly-concealed exhaustion, flew open. “Given the circumstances, I, unfortunately, agree.”

Lorenz’s shame multiplied tenfold as his hopes were dashed. “Why do you think that?” He asked in a small voice, fearing the answer.

“Ha!” Gloucester barked a sharp, mocking laugh and Lorenz flinched. “Don’t think you can hide it from me, boy. You’re not cut out for this line of work. A terrible shame, really. You were always so confident. It seems you were all talk.”

“You’re wrong, Father,” Lorenz said adamantly before he could prevent himself from answering back. “I know I can do better than this. Please, allow me to prove my worth to you.”

“ _Silence_ ,” his father’s voice was like gravel and his eyes icy. “Do you dare question me? Look at you! You’re entirely enervated, unable to complete even the simplest tasks. You’re of no use to me _or_ the Corporation in this state.”

Left with no room for argument, Lorenz could merely let out a single sputter of protest before conceding with a sigh almost as heavy as his heart. Unable to complete his duty that he had set his eyes on the minute he had stepped into the limousine those few weeks ago. Utterly pathetic and unacceptable, especially considering how these past weeks had merely been a trial run.

What was in store for his future now?

Entering the blindingly-white building of the Corporation’s main factory by his father’s side, Lorenz felt not fatigued or anxious or impatient as he had been only a day prior. Instead, he felt hopeless and gloomy and defeated. His last day in the company building for several years, possibly ever, if Father decided he had done spectacularly poorly. And there was nobody to blame but himself and his own incompetence. 

By some strange twist of fate, the chaos of the past month had died down almost completely and Lorenz found himself with more free time than he had on every prior workday combined. After completing the set of tasks laid out for him, allowing himself the time to complete them to perfection now that he had the luxury of doing so, he even felt, dare he say it, _bored_. He couldn’t decide if the Goddess was taking mercy on him or playing a cruel practical joke. Lorenz felt his insides twist bitterly as he noted that the day was shaping up to be rather ordinary when there was a soft knock at the door.

“Enter,” Gloucester commanded.

An unfamiliar old man with a kind face shuffled in, his weight supported by a mahogany cane. “Good day, Mr Gloucester. I’m sorry to trouble you and your son,” he said, his voice barely louder than a whisper.

“It is fine, Tomas,” Father said impatiently without looking up from the document he was scribing. “As you can see, there’s rather little to be done today. What is it?”

Tomas gave a serene smile. “I’m afraid that’s soon to change. Some urgent business has come up and we’re in need of your assistance.”

Father looked up then, intrigued. “Urgent business? Of what sort?”

“I don’t believe it prudent to discuss it here,” Tomas turned to Lorenz, his smile growing even wider until his wrinkled skin seemed to stretch uncannily. “No offence, son. One day you’ll know.”

“Of course, I understand,” Lorenz answered tentatively. Something seemed off about this cheerful old man, though he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

Father pushed himself up from the desk, leaving his paperwork behind. “Lorenz, take the rest of the day off. I will see to this matter alone.”

“But, Father, I don’t—"

“Do not talk back to me,” Gloucester hissed in a dangerous whisper. “Go home, boy.”

And then he and Tomas were gone, leaving him alone in the quiet office.

Lorenz frowned in uncertainty. What was he supposed to do now?

With otherworldly timing, his phone answered his question with a series of buzzes. Lorenz pulled it from his pocket, glaring at it in annoyance. The blasted thing had refused to be quiet for the entire morning and every time he had attempted to power it off, his father had scolded him for getting distracted.

Turning the screen on, Lorenz saw with some surprise that he had missed dozens of messages from the Golden Deer throughout the morning. A memory, buried by more important matters, teased the back of his mind. He remembered Claude announcing to everyone to set aside free time in Derdriu for the 17th of the Blue Sea, with the vague and frankly concerning mention that they’ll ‘see what unfolds’. He checked the date on his phone. Sure enough, it was the 17th. Being so focused on working with his father, he hadn’t even noticed time had passed that quickly.

Lorenz held back a sigh, suppressed the urge to bury his head in his hands as realisation dawned on him. Here he was in Derdriu with the entire day to himself and no work obligations to worry about, on the very same day Claude had incessantly pestered him to make time for the Golden Deer.

Mercy or a cruel joke?

He still wasn’t sure.

* * *

“Hey, you made it!” A cheerful voice called out as Lorenz emerged through the outer city gate. Claude trotted up to him, wearing nothing but a pair of bright yellow swim shorts and a smile as wide as his tone would suggest.

“Indeed I did, Claude,” Lorenz said with a sigh. “It’s merely thanks to a series of unforeseen events that I am here today.”

“Sure it is. Well, I guess it doesn’t matter. Come on, you’re the last one here.” Claude turned around, heading back the way he came and waded into the water by the bank where four of the other Golden Deer were scattered about.

Derdriu, the aptly named Aquatic Capital. Its sunny weather and vast waters made for quite a popular spot for holidaymakers young and old. Lorenz hadn’t needed to skim through his companion’s messages to discover exactly where in the city they’d be but did so anyway for posterity. Lo and behold, here they were at a side of the lake past the outskirts of the city.

Lorenz followed, approaching the water’s edge and taking care to not slip. “Don’t tell me you’ve managed to become even more brainless during our time apart? There’s only six of us in total.”

As if eager to prove him wrong, Leonie and Raphael chose that moment to burst up from under the water. The former was clad in a wetsuit and snorkelling goggles while the latter, like Claude, made up for his lack of clothing with a grin larger than life itself.

“Hey, Lorenz!” Raphael said to him, splashing water about by lifting a partially-submerged hand in a wave. “Come on in, the water’s real nice!”

Hilda, perched on a rock near the water, turned her head to look Lorenz up and down over her heart-shaped sunglasses. “I don’t think that’s gonna happen, Raphael,” she snickered. “You don’t want the salt to mess up his hair, now do you?”

“Not to mention, he’s wearing his stuffy business clothes,” Lysithea’s nose wrinkled in apparent distaste at his perceived shortsightedness. “Who goes to the lake in summer without a swimsuit?”

“My apologies. For some reason, I did not think to bring along swimwear to what I believed was a full day of work with my father,” Lorenz snarked, though he agreed with her and was already beginning to grow uncomfortable in his button-up and dress pants. He held off on saying as much; it couldn’t be helped, after all. “I don’t even have sunscreen.”

“Not having a swimsuit or sunscreen’s going to be rough on you with this kind of heat,” Claude pointed out, hopping out of the water he had just entered. He approached Lorenz, arms outstretched and happy grin turning wicked. “We better throw you in now, before you catch sunstroke.”

“ _No!_ Don’t even think about it, stay back!” Lorenz cried in alarm, nearly tripping over his own feet in an attempt to quickly distance himself from Claude. He whipped his head around, searching for a diversion, and the perfect opportunity struck as he recalled the two figures sitting by the forest’s edge a short distance from the bank. “Thank you for your uniquely-expressed concern but I believe simply sitting in the shade of the trees will stave off any such ailments.”

“That’s a shame,” Claude shook his head in mock resignation. “Missing out on the biggest game of shoulder wars of your life like that. Next time you’ll just have to come better prepared, yeah?”

He dove back into the water then, causing Lysithea, who was unfortunate enough to have been caught by the splash, to let out a surprised shout. Hilda fell into a fit of giggles at the younger girl’s expense as she stomped her foot in indignation. Lorenz could only sigh at the familiar commotion. He wasn’t sure whether to feel grateful or saddened that his home had been empty of such excitement but reached the forest line before he could dwell on the thought.

“Hi, Lorenz! It’s good to see you. I was so sure you weren’t coming,” Ignatz said, looking up from the sketchbook he was depicting the scene before him in. By his side, Marianne lifted her head the barest amount and gave a quiet “hello”.

Lorenz joined them on the log they were perched on and attempted to relax his limbs. “As was I. Father and I had other business here in Derdriu today that, unfortunately, was cancelled. So, here I am.”

“Oh. Sorry to hear that. Well, since it sounds like you’ve been keeping busy, it’ll be good for you to enjoy this time off,” thoughtful brown eyes flicked up from the sketchbook to quickly scan over his face. “You look exhausted if you don’t mind my saying so.”

Lorenz let out a huff of bitter laughter. “Father said the same. Regretfully, it appears that emulating the life of a CEO has taken its toll on me.”

_Enjoy this time off. Father is not here._

Ignatz hummed a noncommittal sound but said nothing. Marianne spoke up in his place.

“You’re under a lot of pressure, aren’t you?” Her soft voice, barely audible over the loud cheering and splashing from the band of children at the lake, was heavy with understanding.

“I suppose it could appear that way from an outsider’s perspective but it is nothing out of the ordinary,” Lorenz answered honestly. “I have been aware of what is expected of me for a long time. This past month was simply my first direct experience with what is to come.”

Ignatz put his pencil down but his eyes remained fixed on his sketchbook. “I think all three of us know what it’s like to be saddled with expectations that we don’t want. That we never asked for.”

“Do not misunderstand,” Lorenz interjected, a bit too quickly and loudly in his surprise. “I do not resent my future, in fact, I am honoured to someday lead the Corporation and vow to do my utmost in maintaining its integrity.”

“Yes, of course! I didn’t mean to assume anything!” Ignatz was suddenly sheepish, his shoulders hunched slightly. “I just hope you’re taking care of yourself, that’s all.”

Lorenz had no physical answer to that. _“For the good of the Corporation,”_ his mind repeated for perhaps the hundredth time that month, though some unseen force prevented him from saying as much out loud. Perhaps the exposure to the heat was making his reflexes grow sluggish. Ignatz and Marianne seemed to understand, which was far more than he could ask for, and the three were content to watch their friends play in the water from afar, the air broken only by soft and infrequent chatter.

* * *

“But then, when she opened the door…” Leonie’s words were sharp and sinister as she neared the climax of the story. “No one was there!”

A chorus of startled sounds rose up from the circle the Golden Deer were huddled in. When the sun had begun to set, the group quickly decided that it was still far too early for them to part ways and relocated to a nearby campsite. Claude, predictably, had come prepared for this situation and he relished in informing everyone as such as he produced an extra-large bag of marshmallows from his backpack. After the campfire was lit and marshmallows roasted, it was Raphael who suggested they take turns telling scary stories.

Initially, Lorenz had refused vehemently to take part in such a juvenile activity while eating food from sticks on the ground but quieted when Hilda insinuated that he was just afraid. Seeing her obnoxious smirk, he sat without complaint and reluctantly picked a single marshmallow from the bag to try. He quickly learned that the sugary snack was far too sweet for him but found comfort that at least he was not eating them while using twigs as cutlery like a neanderthal. There wasn’t a person alive who could budge him on that front.

Evening fell upon them quickly after. Not caring for the story Claude was currently telling, Lorenz instead couldn’t help but notice the beauty of the night sky. The sight of shimmering stars and a bright crescent moon seemed to pull him in, everything else fading into the background, and Lorenz was suddenly aware of how grateful he was that he had decided to spend this time with his friends. If he hadn’t, he wouldn’t have felt the solace he felt in those peaceful moments.

_Father is not here. There is nowhere else you must be, least of all working. Enjoy this time off._

Apparently, he was the only one who either noticed or cared for the beauty of the constellations, as a loud shriek suddenly pierced his ears and sent him crashing back down to their world.

“Hilda, stop it! That’s not funny!” Lysithea pouted. She had leapt up from her spot in the circle and stood looming over Hilda, hands planted on her hips.

“Excuse you. This is my time to talk and I find your interruptions very rude,” Claude scolded, appearing equally annoyed though it was obvious that it was merely a show.

“Shut it, Claude! Your story’s not even good, it’s obvious that it’s completely made up!”

“What, are you saying you can tell a good ghost story better than I can? Go on then, the floor is yours.”

Lysithea’s anger evaporated comically quickly. “No, no, that’s okay! I’m, ah, not very good at telling stories, you see. It would simply be a waste of all of our time. M-more importantly, we’re nearly out of marshmallows!” She held up the bag in question with an iron grip. Lorenz noticed it was indeed almost empty and wondered how long he had tuned out their stories for. “I think it would be wise for us to go and get some more, don’t you? It’s awfully dangerous to be out in a place like this without any food!”

“We’re almost out of food?” Raphael sounded like that one sentence affected him more than all of the so-called scary stories he had just heard. “Why didn’t you say so? We need to get out of here, quick!”

“I must agree,” Lorenz added, now caught up to speed. “You may have been successful in goading me into trying these ‘marshed mallows’, but I absolutely refuse to call such sugary filth my supper.”

“You know, that’s a good point,” Ignatz agreed. “I’d really like something more substantial too.”

“I don’t really mind either way but I know a pretty good diner by the edge of the city,” Leonie suggested.

“Are you sure you’d rather venture out into the unknown than just stay put? What if there's ghosts out there?” Claude’s voice was full of wonder. Lysithea rounded on him then, fists clenched, and he held up his hands in surrender.“I mean majority rules! Lead the way through the dark, spooky forest, Leonie!”

* * *

“—and then Caspar got so mad that Linhardt duped him into blowing up the microwave that he went upstairs and punched a hole through their wall. And Linhardt slept right through it!”

“Legend says it never got fixed and their room still looks into Hubert and Ferdinand’s.”

“Whoever spread that inane rumour is lying. I can verify that there is nothing amiss about Ferdinand’s room; I was there only a few days before the break began.”

“I’m not surprised. It _was_ Sylvain who told me, after all."

“What, and you believed it? That was your first mistake. Nothing out of Sylvain’s mouth is worth giving the time of day.”

“Yeah, like that story he told me about Felix slicing up his own desk.”

“No, that’s believable. Have you ever met Felix?”

“You know, he _seems_ scary but I bet his bark is worse than his bite. The _real_ Faerghan you should watch out for is Mercedes.”

“Really?! She’s one of the sweetest people I know! What sort of things have you seen?”

“Do not let that fool you. Her words can be surprisingly scathing if you are unfortunate enough to earn her ire.”

“Yeesh. And you’re speaking from experience too, aren’t you? I don’t want to think about what you must have done to get on _her_ bad side.”

The air was lighthearted, filled with gossip, laughter and humorous stories. Lorenz felt relaxed and at ease, the unrest of his past few weeks forgotten as his mood soared. Numerous times, he noticed other patrons of the diner turn their heads and glare and felt the urge to apologise for their racket, however, the urge was always forgotten as quickly as it manifested. The festivities continued well into the night, hours slipping by until Lorenz had to hold back a jaw-cracking yawn.

“Dear me,” he murmured, checking the time on his phone. “It shall be morning soon. Were any of you aware?”

A series of no’s and shaking heads. Lorenz suppressed a sigh. Each of them was as thoughtless as the next. He hurriedly dialled Bernard then, as his parents were surely worried sick, and addressed the odd looks his friends were giving him when he hung up.

“Who’s Bernard?” Hilda asked, eyes wide. “Is he a chauffeur? I wish _I_ had one of those to drive me around all the time…”

“I thought you said your father was in Derdriu today?” Ignatz’s brows were furrowed in confusion. “If you don’t mind me saying so, wouldn’t he have been your most viable way to get home?”

“Yes, under normal circumstances. But I’ve stayed out rather later than I expected, so he has probably gone home by now.” Lorenz shook his head. Such disorganisation was unlike him.

“Your dad just left you here without getting in touch?” Leonie said in disbelief. “That’s a bit messed up.”

“Well, what else can be expected of him when I, too, did not get in contact?” Lorenz's patience for their probing questions slowly but surely beginning to wane.

“That’s no excuse…” she grumbled lowly, looking equal parts guilty for asking yet not quite willing to relent.

Determined to not let the event be ruined when they were so close to parting, Lorenz addressed the group, one hand worrying at his temple. “Please, all of you. I appreciate the concern, but there is nothing out of the ordinary here.”

“It’s fine. We understand,” Claude said curtly, his resignation as he spoke in place of everyone else belying the darkness in his eyes, raging like a storm with questions and objections that would go unvoiced.

Lorenz did not have time to give them a second glance before the telltale blaring of a deep horn drew his attention from outside. He stood, bidding his friends goodbye, only to almost rear back in surprise as he was brushed off and they followed him outside. This time, Lorenz wasted no time in approaching the limousine before Bernard could notice Claude, though he doubted he was so lucky.

Just before he climbed in, he looked back to wave goodbye to everyone and noticed they had begun to split off amongst each other. Raphael and Ignatz were wandering off in one direction, Hilda and Marianne in another and Leonie in a third while Lysithea and Claude had yet to disperse. The former was glancing around rapidly, attempting to search for something amidst the darkness while the latter stood stock-still, gaze fixed on the limousine as if he could see right through it and its occupants.

“Just _what_ have you been doing all night, young Master?” Bernard sputtered as they pulled away from the diner, leaving Claude and all of his questions behind.

“Enjoying myself,” Lorenz said flatly, though he wasn’t sure where such terse rudeness came from.

“What has your father taught you about respecting your elders?” Bernard, evidently, wasn’t sure either as annoyance threatened to override shock. “Those friends of yours better not be influencing you.”

“There is nothing to fear, Bernard.”

“Bah! I’ll believe _that_ when you cease staying out so late at cheap diners and reevaluate who is worthy of your company.”

Lorenz frowned deeply at the comment. Bernard hadn’t said the words outright but it was clear what he really meant. _How dare he?_

“Thank you for the suggestion. I will be sure to take it to heart. Now, if you don’t mind, I am feeling rather tired and would prefer some peace and quiet.”

Bernard complied and lifted the screen, though not without giving a deep sigh. Lorenz couldn’t tell if it was of exhaustion, resignation, regret, or anger and didn’t particularly care to find out.

* * *

Just when Lorenz was preparing to crawl into bed after returning home, his phone rang. He answered quickly, raising a quizzical eyebrow at the name on the screen.

“Claude. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

“Not much, space case,” Claude said breezily. He was smiling, Lorenz could almost see it as well as he could hear it.

“I’m sorry. _Space case?_ ”

“You heard me. Did you think we couldn’t see you staring up at the sky like a kid at the planetarium? Anyone would think you’d never seen the stars before.”

Lorenz sighed, shaking his head. He should have figured someone would notice such a conspicuous display. “I suppose that is not inaccurate. The night sky in the sprawling cities I usually inhabit is often not worth devoting attention to due to light pollution. Admiring it in a state free of such constraints was quite refreshing.”

“Yeah, it’s like that all the time back home,” there was an odd sense of fondness in Claude’s tone. “Endless stars, as far as the eye can see. I never get tired of it.”

“I do believe I could get used to that,” Lorenz said wistfully. “Perhaps I should visit Derdriu more often.”

A short pause. “Yeah, maybe you should,” another pause, this time for Claude to clear his throat. “But that’s not why I’m calling. I wanted to thank you for coming today even though you said you probably wouldn’t.”

Lorenz chuckled in amusement. “What’s this all of a sudden?”

“Hey, I’m serious,” despite his words, Claude returned with laughter of his own, though his thoughtfulness never left his tone. “I don’t doubt that you really were busy so I appreciate that you were able to make it anyway, whether it was planned or not.”

Lorenz stilled, choosing his words carefully. What was it Ferdinand had said those few weeks ago? Considerate gesture, sincere gratitude, carry on.

“Think nothing of it, Claude. I am glad I was able to make an appearance as well.”

* * *


	12. The View from Upside Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summer break is over and Lorenz returns to Garreg Mach, only for his reunion with Claude to go horribly awry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HOOO BOY THINGS ARE STARTING TO PICK UP
> 
>   
> TW: parental abuse mentions

Lorenz slept pleasantly that night and, against his better judgement, dozed well into the late morning.

At first, his body appeared grateful, as the powerful urge to roll over and go back to sleep he had developed recently had all but vanished. Instead, he got up, stretched out his limbs and smiled as the infernal sounds of joints popping that were rather embarrassing for a man of only nineteen to hear, were no more.

Before long, it became apparent that that was not the case.

Shame burned as he recalled that since he had been barred from working, there was little else he could do occupy his time with. He felt trapped, stagnant, anxious. His time was important and it felt like a terrible injustice to lounge around the estate, doing mundane things like watering the flowers or reorganising his bookshelf, his own weakness taunting him all the while. His mother, at one point, expressed relief that he was taking this time off to ‘decompress’, though saying that Lorenz disagreed would be an understatement. He wasn’t even able to leave the house, as he was still without his car and Bernard, under Father’s orders, had refused to take him anywhere due to his irresponsible behaviour the previous night.

His blood went cold as a single, haunting thought wormed its way into his brain on the second day.

_It is as though I am imprisoned._

Lorenz had never considered his own home in such a harrowing, grisly way and immediately regret it, feeling ungrateful, but the feeling persisted all the same.

Imprisoned, to be released in a week. He wasn’t sure he could handle it.

Time slowed to a crawl, Lorenz growing more highly strung by the day, until, after what seemed like a millennium, the week’s end was upon him. He had packed his bags the night prior so that he would be ready to leave as soon as he possibly could. Mother had seen him off with a great big hug and misty eyes before leaving for work several hours prior. Father had been absent, having left long before anyone else had woken up, but likely wouldn’t have had much to say regardless. Lorenz found he didn’t mind.

The quietude that had felt suffocating within the confines of the estate was refreshing inside the limousine, though he couldn’t help but steadily drum his fingers against his knee as he watched the landscapes go by, filled with thrumming energy.

His empty dorm room was a welcome sight despite the barren interior bearing similarities to when he first stumbled into his bedroom at the estate an entire month ago. At least, he mused as he set his bags down, it wasn’t dusty like his bedroom had been. The academy janitors had done their job better than competent and highly paid Gloucester maids. Lorenz bit back a sigh at the thought.

His second observation was that the entire floor was overwhelmingly quiet, let alone just the walls of Room 111. It was a Friday, the 23rd of the Blue Sea, and classes were due to resume in three days. The dorms had been reopened that morning and there was no obligation for any of the students to return quite as soon as Lorenz did, yet he still expected to pass at least several people in the halls and hear the pleasant buzz of quiet conversations in the rooms around him.

The stark silence was eerie, to say the least, and he quickly busied himself with unpacking his belongings to avoid focusing on it, only to find the situation hadn’t changed a bit when he finished an hour later.

A solution appeared in his mind and Lorenz’s brows pinched together as he frowned slightly.

_No, I couldn’t possibly. There is no need to take such drastic measures._

Lorenz typically thought himself a steadfast man but decided to make an exception just this once when an alternative solution failed to manifest. With a frustrated sigh, he gave in seconds later and snatched his phone from where it rested on its old home on the nightstand.

“Lorenz?” Claude picked up quickly. “What can I do for you?”

“Good day, Claude. You wouldn’t happen to be in the area, would you? It’s awfully dreary here and I need something to distract me.”

“Okay… Where is ‘here’?”

“Garreg Mach.”

“Garreg Mach?” Claude echoed in bewilderment. “You’re a bit early. You know you don’t have to be back there for another two days, right?”

“Yes, well…” Lorenz trailed off. “I was growing restless at home after so much time spent neglecting my studies. I must always keep my mind sharp, you see. Hence, I decided to return earlier so that I may be fully energised for class on Monday.”

“Huh,” was all Claude said in a low hum. Lorenz could imagine him working his jaw as he thought. Of what, he didn’t know, nor was he comfortable with the growing silence. “Well, unfortunately for you, I’m very much _not_ in the area and won’t be until tomorrow afternoon. Sorry.”

Lorenz shook his head at himself. A predictable answer. What exactly had he been expecting, attempting to summon Claude to Garreg Mach with absolutely no warning? To chase away his own selfish feelings of boredom, no less?

“But if you don’t mind waiting, I suppose we could meet up somewhere if you really wanted to,” Claude continued, pulling him from his chastising. “I mean, I know that you miss me now and tomorrow feels like an eternity to wait before you can see my wonderful self but it’s the best I can do on such short notice.”

“Don’t be crass,” Lorenz instinctually scolded though he lacked his usual bite. A small smile settled onto his face at the familiarity of Claude’s jokes, coupled with relief that he was willing to compromise. “Although that does sound agreeable.”

“High praise from you,” Claude was no doubt mirroring Lorenz’s smile with one of his own, but his voice was without the usual mirth and mischief brought on by his antics. “Have you ever been to Perfect Tea Time?”

Lorenz paused, thinking. “I can’t say the name is familiar, no.”

“In that case, I’ll drop my luggage off at our room then we can drive there together. Sound okay?”

“Yes, that is acceptable. Let me know when you are to be arriving soon.”

“Will do. See you tomorrow, roomie.”

* * *

Lorenz couldn’t hold back his chuckle as he entered Perfect Tea Time the next day and eyed the familiar interior.

“Something funny?” Claude asked, giving him an odd half-smile as they slid into a booth.

“Simply a coincidence,” Lorenz said, skimming through the menu before him, the very same that he had ordered from the last month. “As it turns out, I have, in fact, been here before and simply never learned its name.”

Claude shook his head in mock disappointment. “So much for my belief that you’ve memorised the names and locations of every tea shop within a hundred miles.”

“In my defence, my mind was elsewhere that day. I was feeling out of sorts and was not paying attention when I stumbled upon this place.”

“Oh? Care to elaborate?”

Lorenz hesitated briefly. Claude noticed it too if the way his brows furrowed almost imperceptibly was any indication.

“This was where I came after I left our room on my birthday,” Lorenz’s tone was carefully neutral as he pretended to appear enthralled with his menu. “Humorously, the tea I was served that day was far from perfect so I cannot fathom the origins of this establishment’s name.”

“We just can’t agree on anything, can’t we? I can’t believe like the cheap campus café more than you do here,” Claude folded his arms with a quiet scoff. “And you call your tastes refined.”

Their drinks arrived at that moment and Lorenz took a sip of his angelica tea. It was better than last time, albeit still unenjoyable and brewed clumsily. “My tastes _are_ refined. Not all of us can enjoy drinking pure sugar with a splash of coffee.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Claude grinned cat-like, tipping no less than three of the provided sugar packets into his mug. It was all Lorenz could do to hold back his sputter of exasperation.

They fell into an easy silence then, the amicable atmosphere familiar and precisely what Lorenz had been looking for a day prior. Claude busied himself with stirring his drink, studying it thoughtfully.

“You know,” he began without looking up, “I never was able to find out what was eating you that day. You seemed so cheerful when I left and then when I came back it had all gone out the window.”

Lorenz waved a hand. “Do not worry, it is nothing to concern yourself with.”

Claude looked up then, suddenly serious. “That’s almost word for word what you said last time.”

“Repeating myself, am I?” Lorenz murmured, smiling wryly over the rim of his cup. “I was not aware that you listen to me when I speak. When did that become a habit?”

“You’re deflecting.”

“I’m not.”

“Was it your dad?” Claude said abruptly with a voice like steel and eyes to match.

Lorenz stilled with his cup halfway to his mouth, the action betraying any lie or dismissal he could have given. “How did you know?”

“I know we’re not best friends or anything but in the four months we’ve known each other, I’ve only noticed one thing change your mood so suddenly,” Claude let his comment hang in the air, leaving Lorenz to ponder its implications himself.

He grit his teeth, at a loss. Claude clearly thought he was privy to the everyday goings-on of his private life, and for what? What could he possibly gain from knowing such information? Why was he so persistent?

That was quite often what it came down to, it seemed. Claude’s persistence, unwavering and adamant, was something to be admired, in all its inexplicable glory. This was not the first time Claude had attempted to interrogate him about Father and Lorenz suspected it would not be the last. True it may be that they ‘were not best friends’, but if there was one thing Lorenz had learned, it was that Claude was not one to give up so easily. Living in such close quarters, it was only a matter of time until Claude inevitably fell victim to improper timing and witnessed yet another questionable exchange between father and son and this charade would repeat itself.

Until that time, perhaps a shred of information would sate him.

“If you absolutely must know—“

“Let me stop you there,” Claude cut in. “Forgive me for parroting your words back at you but _you_ absolutely must know that I only want to know what you trust me with, nothing more and nothing less. It’s a question, not a demand, okay?”

Well. This was certainly new.

“What I trust you with?” Lorenz inspected the wood of the table before him to avoid Claude’s eyes boring into him. “A bold suggestion. Even I am not sure where such a limit lies.”

“I’ll give you a minute,” Claude leaned back in the booth and appeared to make himself comfortable, eyes roving over the other patrons of the café and hands toying with his saucer.

How much _did_ he trust Claude with? Did he trust Claude at all? Lorenz had never needed to think about such things before and hesitated to answer those questions at such an inopportune time. One thing, on the other hand, was clear: Claude did not need to know everything. The deepest details were most likely supremely uninteresting besides. Therefore, it was most prudent to reveal what lies on the surface. Nothing more and nothing less, as Claude himself had said.

Lorenz Hellman Gloucester was many things but he was not ashamed, nor afraid. Family matters were a trivial thing for him to fret over, especially when considering how uncomplicated his family was. Everything he did for his father made sense and was tried and true for him and Claude, at the very least, was a reasonable, practical, observant man. Surely he would understand as well as Lorenz.

He cleared his throat, steeling himself. Claude waited, intrigued. “As you correctly guessed, that little ordeal was caused when Father phoned me on my birthday and made no mention of the occasion. I was, in a moment of weakness, dispirited and sought refuge here in the mall.”

“Sheesh, no wonder you were upset,” Claude shook his head in what appeared to be irritation. “‘A moment of weakness’, huh? That’s not weak at all; no parent worth their money would pull something like that.”

“I— what?” Lorenz paused, watching and waiting for Claude to break out in a smile and assure him he was joking. “Do not misunderstand. My father is a very busy man. I am sure it simply slipped his mind amongst his countless daily concerns.”

“Lorenz, that’s not an excuse,” Claude looked conflicted, his tone strained and uncomfortable as if he regret what he was saying somehow. “Even if you weren’t his son, wishing someone a happy birthday is just common courtesy and takes a couple seconds. The fact that you’re his flesh and blood just makes it ten times worse.”

Lorenz frowned in distaste, the words striking a familiar chord. “Hm. You and Ferdinand both took this stance so I will say to you what I said to him. Father was forced to cut our conversation short, as more important matters required his attention. Those seconds spent extending such trivial sentiments would have been, and in all likelihood _were_ , better spent on his work as head of the Gloucester Corporation.”

Claude looked straight into his eyes then, his expression and tone entirely unreadable. “Do you really think the Corporation’s more important than your own wellbeing?”

Lorenz’s answer was so direct and unmistakable in its simplicity that a single word was all he needed. “Naturally.”

Claude said nothing, baffled green eyes scrutinising him. “Why?” He ventured, his voice laced with pity.

On his worst days and in his most regrettable moments, Lorenz often asked himself the same thing and always, without fail, came to the same conclusion, the same words constantly reverberating in his mind.

“It is for the good of the Corporation. I have been primed my entire life for when I am to eventually lead and I am honoured to say as much. There is little else I would ask for in life.”

“Uh-huh,” Claude muttered, unconvinced. “And this ‘priming’ was what kept you busy during summer break?”

“Indeed, until the final week,” Lorenz’s tone soured somewhat as he was forced to remember the humiliation and shame of being on the receiving end of Father’s disdain. “I had difficulties keeping up with my work and, coincidentally, was dismissed the very same day we met in Derdriu.”

“Can you tell me more about this work?” Claude’s eyes narrowed as he leaned forward with rapt attention. “I mean, if you’ve been trained for it your whole life then, in theory, you should have had no problem jumping into the boss’s chair. Right?”

“That is how it should have transpired, yes,” no longer able to stand watching Claude’s intense gaze, Lorenz turned his head to stare at the many passersby outside, sourness morphing into resentment. “Unfortunately, it did not. Each day was long and relentless, beginning early in the morning and ending well into the evening, often with few, if any, lulls throughout due to how busy we happened to be.”

“Right. So, let me get this straight,” Claude’s eyes were shut tightly in frustration, his words growing clipped. “Growing up, Gloucester Sr. drilled into your head how important leading the company’s gonna be for you one day and didn’t really give you any choice in the matter. Then, when you get your first taste of what it’s really like, he throws you, his nineteen-year-old son, in the deep end and has you work morning ’til night with no breaks,” his eyes snapped open, revealing a barely-suppressed fury. “And you think _you’re_ in the wrong for getting burned out?”

Lorenz’s fists clenched, seemingly of their own volition. His gaze could have ignited the tea in front of him, now cold and forgotten. “I do not appreciate the tone you have taken. It is as I say; after such thorough preparation, it is unacceptable for me to have disappointed my father and mother with a display unworthy of the Gloucester name.”

“Listen,” Claude began, his voice heavy with a mass of emotions that Lorenz couldn’t place. “I’m sorry to be the one to tell you this, especially if I’m the first one to ever say it, but… Lorenz. You’re being mistreated. _Horribly_ mistreated.”

The world came to a standstill.

“ _What?_ ”

“I mean, haven’t you ever questioned any of it?” Claude sounded utterly incredulous as if the situation was so simple. “The way your father treats you? He’s piled all this pressure onto you for your entire life without any regard for your wellbeing, to the point where you’re totally numb and think it’s normal. It’s just… _twisted_. No wonder you left early, I’d barely be able to stomach living there too.”

The response was short, concise and entirely neutral. “You are mistaken.”

Claude blinked, caught off guard by his curtness. In an instant, his eyes were wide and panicked, hands held up placatingly. “Look, I know you don’t want to hear this from me—or from anyone, really—but someone has to—“

“ _Silence_ ,” was all Lorenz could grit out, cutting off Claude’s babbling. In the past, he would have preluded his reply with ‘how dare you’, or a similar chastisement but when he opened his mouth, the words wouldn’t come. His expression remained blank throughout, not a hair out of place, and he folded his hands together calmly. Claude watched cautiously as if expecting Lorenz to snap at any moment.

“You are mistaken,” he repeated, his voice dropping to a cold, dangerous hiss.

Then he promptly rose from the booth and stormed out, leaving Claude behind to gape at the abandoned tea.

* * *

A day had passed since Lorenz had returned to the academy and students had begun arriving in droves. The halls he passed and his floor on Dorm B were alive with the conversation and laughter that he had wished for a day prior and yet he hardly heard any of it.

He hadn’t an idea what had come over him. He had felt perfectly fine as he left Perfect Tea Time. Enraged and offended and slightly sickened upon witnessing just how tactless and presumptuous and overwhelmingly audacious Claude could be, but still fine. It wasn’t until he returned to the dorms did everything seem to hit him at once and he all but collapsed onto his bed as if all energy had been drained from him. Fog settled over his mind until he couldn’t tell what he thought or felt anymore and his limbs felt heavy and impossible to lift. Still, through the haze of fatigue, he did not cry or seethe or wallow. He merely remained still and silent, unmoving and unfeeling.

So, he stayed in that same position, curled up on his side until night fell and he could no longer see a foot in front of him.

Claude did not return, as he had expected, and the room remained silent. The only thing that kept Lorenz from remembering he was in his room at Garreg Mach and not floating around in oblivion, was his phone chiming once before its presence receded back into the void.

Eventually, minutes, hours, perhaps even days later, he forced himself to sit up and suddenly became aware of the ache in his side from his rigidness. He briefly cursed himself for his horrid posture before immediately shoving the pain aside in favour of checking the notification.

He realised, with a great heaving sigh of resignation, that the effort had not been worth it, as all that stared back at him was an alert that Hilda had uploaded a photo to her profile and tagged him in it. Not caring to receive such unimportant notifications, he thumbed open the app to disable them and couldn’t help but notice Hilda’s post in the process.

A photo of the Deer in the diner the week before was all he noticed before his thoughts cut out.

In the foreground, Hilda was winking and flashing the camera a peace sign. Claude was framed in the middle, his grin cheesy and his arms slung around the shoulders of Marianne and Ignatz, who were, in turn, startled by the close contact but happy to be included. On the far side of the table and the shot by extension, were the rest of the Deer. Lysithea’s wide eyes stared straight into the camera as she sipped from a tall, frothy milkshake, not noticing that she had been captured on camera until it was too late. By her side, Raphael wore the broad smile he was rarely seen without, caught up in the joyous atmosphere, or possibly the large burger in his hands. Next to him sat Leonie and Lorenz himself, both unaware of the photo opportunity taking place as their attention was solely focused on the story the former was telling.

Lorenz considered himself a man with a perfectly healthy amount of self-esteem. That being said, the way awe took hold as his eyes fell upon the him in the picture was the result of something other than simply admiring himself.

He remembered the story Leonie had been telling, an anecdote about her life before Garreg Mach, and remembered how it culminated in quite the humorous twist. He remembered how laughter shook his frame but until now, he had been entirely ignorant of just how _strong_ his joy had been. The smile he wore in the photo was unlike any he had seen before, even on the most expressive and cheerful people he knew. Merely seeing it in the image caused his laughter and the laughter of his friends to replay in his mind: bright, youthful, genuine and without a care in the world. And it belonged to _him_.

_I had no idea I could look so... happy._

As the bittersweet thought intruded into his mind, his heart rended with something unfamiliar and unwelcome. He could have wept, had he not learned how to suppress such infantile feelings long ago.

How often had the Golden Deer seen him like that?

Did he ever look like that around Ferdinand? Constance?

Did he ever look like that at home?

No, the lattermost was hardly worth entertaining. Home was not the place for smiling until his face hurt. Home was the place for a guard that never lowered and working like his life depended on it.

Home was… strenuous. Taxing. Exhausting.

 _Mistreated_.

It couldn’t possibly be true.

Surely none of it was real.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Claude says what everyone is thinking: the chapter
> 
> Poor Lorenz. He'll get there someday.


	13. Simmering Bridges

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lorenz is shaken by an earth-shattering revelation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to Caps aka PunnyMints for helping with this chapter!
> 
>   
> tw: discussions of parental abuse

Time marched on.

The warm season changed to cold and the days of shining sun and pleasant birdsong vanished, being filled instead with clouds, rain, and brisk winds.

Lorenz typically was not fond of the cold and to acclimate, had taken to donning a scarf, gloves, and earmuffs everywhere he went. He supposed it was a blessing that he had not been born in Faerghus, where the winters were much harsher than those of Leicester and especially Adrestia. Claude apparently agreed, judging by the plug-in heater that Lorenz found in their room one chilly afternoon.

_Ah, the elephant in the room…_

For some bizarre reason, the air felt distinctly different between the two roommates. Claude was being his usual incomprehensible self and his behaviour seemed to shift by the day. Oftentimes, usually in the presence of the other Golden Deer, he acted completely fine and there was nothing to suggest that something was amiss with him.

It was when they were alone in their room that Lorenz sensed trouble brewing.

It would be an exaggeration to suggest that Lorenz and Claude were particularly close. There were several reasons why, most notably their clashing personalities and priorities in life, their horrendous first impression that complicated any initial attempts at amicability, and the fact that even after five months, Lorenz still knew very little of his roommate.

Despite such a tumultuous relationship, they tended to forge ahead blindly and for some time, had been rewarded for their cooperation with peace. However, as of late, the tension had been entirely one-sided on Claude’s part. The irritating man often jumped between clipped words and forced smiles, which Lorenz was used to, and senseless, probing questions, fleeting looks of pity and looking like he wanted to say something before deciding against it, which Lorenz was _not_ used to.

It was utterly baffling to say the least, as Lorenz hadn’t a clue what could have possibly happened between them to cause such a shift in their dynamic. Each time he racked his brain, he came up short. They had not had a falling-out in quite some time and it seemed unlike Claude to dwell on events that happened several months ago.

Still, if Claude was displeased about something, the responsibility fell to him to locate and resolve the issue. Lorenz would wait patiently for his roommate to voice whatever questions and concerns he was suppressing.

Until then, time would march on.

* * *

Hilda, surprisingly, was the first to take initiative.

“I c _annot_ believe you two,” she shoved her way past Lorenz as he answered the door, nearly toppling him over, and stomped directly to the middle of the room, hands on hips. “ _One day_ is all it took for you idiots to get in another fight and this time you let two weeks pass without doing anything about it?”

“Hilda, I told you to leave it alone,” Claude muttered in annoyance, his tone grave.

She turned to him, pouting. “Well, what do you expect? Usually I like standing by and doing nothing but I hate seeing you so upset. It’s not like you to spend so long stewing over something without sorting it out.”

Claude let out a sigh. “Be that as it may, being reckless is probably the worst way to handle this.”

“Excuse me,” Lorenz cut in. “What in the world are you talking about?”

“Um… what do you think we’re talking about?” Hilda asked, looking at him in confusion. “The café two weeks ago?”

“Café?” Lorenz vaguely remembered such an outing with Claude, but he was certain that nothing of note had happened there. Certainly, nothing that explained Claude’s odd behaviour, or warranted Hilda confronting them like this.

Hilda deflated, an uncomfortable look crossing her face. “Does he really not know or is he just messing with us?” She whispered, just loud enough for Lorenz to hear. Claude merely shrugged, wearing a dejected expression that looked entirely out of place on him. “Okay, then!” She clapped her hands together, suddenly chipper. “I just remembered I’m in the wrong room. Silly me. Later!”

And then she was gone. Lorenz’s confusion multiplied tenfold, as did the number of questions he had.

“Kindly explain yourself,” he said, no sooner than silence returned to the room.

Claude blinked. He took a moment to scrutinise Lorenz, clever eyes narrowing slightly. “Actually, I think you’re the one who needs to explain himself. You _do_ remember what we talked about at the café, right?”

Lorenz answered immediately, knowing by now that there was little point in attempting to think back to that day. “I cannot think of anything we spoke of that could have caused such an upheaval.”

Claude fixed him with a stony-faced stare. “Don’t dodge the question, Lorenz. This is serious.”

“I am _not_ —“ Lorenz cut himself off with a harsh exhale, a hand rubbing at his temple. Ever the unfathomable fool. “Feel free to begin making sense any day now, Claude. I will wait.”

“No need. I can spell it out for you now,” Claude took a deep breath, steeling himself. “We ended up on the subject of your dad,” he paused, waiting for some sort of reaction. None was to come, however, and Lorenz ignored the way his skin prickled at the words. “You let me in on some pretty alarming insider info—thanks for trusting me with that sort of stuff, by the way—and I tried to tell you as gently as I could that you’re being mistreated. Because you are.”

“ _That word again…!”_ Lorenz’s senses seemed to hiss, a full-body flinch rocking him as shock struck like a bolt of lightning. It took a moment for him to realise he was standing, having accidentally launched himself off his desk chair, and he instinctively took a step back despite Claude posing no threat to him. Memories of their talk that he had tried to block out teased at the back of his mind, words he attempted to silence rang in his ears, and it was all he could do to talk over them and regain control.

“ _Mistreated_?!” His voice was slightly, unfortunately shrill. “Your insolence never ceases to amaze me, making such baseless accusations about a situation you know nothing about.”

“Listen to me,” Claude began, pleading. “I know it’s a lot to take in and I’ll be honest, I have no idea how to properly handle this either. But you have to listen when I say that denial won’t get you anywhere.”

“Denial— the nerve of you, to suggest you know more of my family than I?” Lorenz’s voice lowered to a cold growl as his blood turned to ice. He lifted an arm, stiff with outrage, in a point to punctuate his words. “I will warn you now, Claude von Riegan. Cease with your speculation or you will regret it.”

Infuriatingly, Claude merely continued. “Look, if you don’t want to talk to me about it, you could do some research. Look online or try finding a book in the library. Maybe talk to Seteth or Manuela. I don’t know, just do _something_.”

“I could strangle your persistence out of you,” Lorenz muttered under his breath, suppressing a scream of frustration. At Claude’s inquisitive gaze, he cleared his throat, composing himself. “Forgive me for losing my temper. I must have slept poorly last night. No matter. I must ask why it is you seem so invested in my personal life.”

Claude studied his face carefully, searching for something that Lorenz couldn’t name. His eyes seemed to see right through him, laying all his secrets bare, and Lorenz swallowed.

“Because I’m your friend, Lorenz.”

The utterance was stated plainly but adamantly and with more conviction than Claude had shown all day. It made the words themselves that much more surprising and Lorenz found he had been rendered speechless.

* * *

“Thank you for coming in today, Lorenz,” Seteth said without looking up from his paperwork. Busy as always, it seemed.

“Thank you for your time,” Lorenz sat primly on the visitors’ chair, already pulled out in anticipation of his presence.

Looking back on what had landed him in this room, he frowned bitterly. A day prior, Claude had burst into the room while Ferdinand and Constance were over, interrupted their rapport with a request that the two friends ‘talk some sense into him’, and then left without elaborating.

Not only was that stunt impossibly rude and near thoughtless, it was also negligent that they had failed to nip this infantile disagreement in the bud and were now involving others.

So, here Lorenz was, taking steps to put an end to these weeks of antagonism.

“Of course. I am always happy to listen to and assist with concerns of the students,” Seteth clicked his pen closed with an air of finality, depositing it into his pencil pot. He looked up, green eyes meeting purple. “Now, what can I do for you?”

“I will cut to the chase. Claude has been rather a nuisance lately and I am finding myself increasingly frustrated.”

“Ah, yes. I suppose it has been quite some time since he moved in. I thought that all was well between you but evidently, it is not. What is the matter?”

“Simply put, he has conjured up some unflattering and untrue ideas about me and has repeatedly confronted me about them. I have attempted on numerous occasions to tell him that I do not care for such slander to no avail.”

Seteth’s face turned dark and deadly serious. “Spreading rumours, is he? He ought to know that such immaturity is frowned upon here at Garreg Mach. Thank you for telling me; I shall deal with the matter swiftly.”

“No, that is not the issue,” Lorenz murmured, eyes focused on Seteth’s nameplate as he thought. “I do not think Claude would intentionally spread misinformation. To my knowledge, he has not told anyone except for Hilda Goneril, who is a friend of both of us. The issue lies in that he is attempting to solve problems that do not exist, and is irritatingly persistent in making his fruitless endeavours my problem as a result.”

“Ah. Yes, I see,” Seteth nodded, a hand to his chin. “You say you have already attempted to reason with him. In that case, I would suggest you prove to him that his ideas are unfounded and unappreciated. Claude is an astute young man; I do not think he would harass someone simply for his own amusement. I will not ask you to divulge any information about these ideas that you do not want to, but it seems likely that he is simply concerned about you and thinks stubborn determination is the best way to make you see things his way.”

Lorenz paused, considering. “Prove it to him, you say? Yes, I do believe that is an option,” he bowed his head in gratitude. “Thank you, Seteth. You have been most helpful.”

Elevated by hope, he bid goodbye to the administrator and made his way back to the dorm, endless possibilities looming on the horizon.

* * *

Another incident occurred in the days following and Lorenz knew he could not wait any longer.

After class, he returned to his room with haste and waited. It would take some time to execute but putting Claude’s ludicrous claims to rest would surely be worth it.

“I have been waiting for you,” he said by way of greeting when the door opened several hours later.

“Yeah, Shamir’s class ran longer than usual today,” Claude responded conversationally. “Right when she was about to dismiss us, Hubert put his hand up with a four-part question. Bastard had to have done it on purpose.”

Lorenz blinked at his roommate’s crude language. “What a shame. Well, no matter. There is something I must show you.”

“Yeah? What’s that?”

A phone was produced from Lorenz’s pocket, brandished like a weapon. “I am going to phone my mother and she is going to personally assure you that your little theories about Father and me are entirely untrue.”

Claude’s head whipped around from where he stood in front of his desk, eyes wide with surprise and disbelief. “Lorenz, no. You don’t need to do that.”

“Nonsense,” Lorenz shook his head stubbornly. “This charade has gone on long enough. It is time to silence your concerns once and for all.”

Before Claude could protest any further, Lorenz opened his contacts and hit dial, thumbing the call to speaker. Realising that there was no way out of this, Claude then collapsed onto his bed, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else in the world.

“Hello, dear! How are you?” Iria answered near immediately, her cheerful voice filling the room.

“Hello, Mother. I am quite well. Claude is here with me and he has—“

“Hi, Claude!” She gleefully interrupted.

“Hi, Mrs Gloucester,” Claude said despondently.

“None of that, dear. Just call me Iria.”

Claude raised an eyebrow at her informality, a stark contrast to her son’s politeness and opened his mouth to comment. Lorenz beat him to the punch, growing impatient.

“Claude has some questions about our home,” excitement bubbled away in his spine and he struggled to keep it out of his tone. Forcing Claude to finally shut his mouth and concede defeat - the possibility sounded almost too good to be true. “He is under the entirely baseless assumption that I am subject to mistreatment from Father.”

Rather than immediately breaking out into hysterical laughter, Iria instead remained silent so Lorenz decided to continue. “He refuses to be quiet over this matter, and even when he _is_ quiet, that pitiful expression of his says a thousand words. Won’t you put his ridiculous ideas to rest?”

More silence. Lorenz was convinced she’d accidentally hung up before some clattering sounds resonated through the receiver. “That— ridiculous indeed. Let me just head upstairs…” her voice was unusually hesitant and trailed off towards the end. Lorenz hardly had the time to comment before she continued, her voice empty of its usual boisterous vigour.

“Lorenz, my son. I’m not sure over the phone is the right way to discuss this.”

A pit opened in his stomach. His breath escaped him in an undignified, ragged burst as the cold claws of panic seized his chest in a crushing grip. “Mother? What do you mean?”

“I knew this was going to happen someday. Couldn’t the Goddess have sent me a sign?” Iria lamented, seemingly ignoring him.

“Mother, please answer me,” Lorenz hated to use such a demanding tone on her but his wits were rapidly leaving him as dread flared. “We must settle this now; if something is the matter, please say so.”

She responded this time, though what she said was quite possibly the worst thing Lorenz could have heard at that moment.

“Claude is correct.”

At that, Claude’s head raised and where Lorenz expected to see a smug, triumphant smile, only sombre regret lay. He quickly averted his eyes, gaze flicking momentarily at the door. Lorenz, meanwhile, was overwhelmed by a light, floaty feeling, as if he were a spirit watching his own body from afar. He would have dropped the phone and sent it clattering to the floor were he not convinced he had misheard her somehow.

“What,” was all he could say, a weak, breathy sound that was more a statement than a question. He hurriedly thumbed the call off speaker and clutched the phone to his ear.

“I do not know what tipped him off, but it is true. This… _treatment_. Your father, simply put, is a despot who cares for nothing other than money and power. That is why he raised you as he did and instilled his own… principles into you. He manipulated and conditioned you into placing the Corporation above all else to turn you into his pawn and elevate the business even higher.”

Lorenz’s head begun to swim as his heartbeat pounded like thunder in his ears. “I don’t understand,” he forced out, his voice small, helpless and completely foreign.

“I know,” Iria sounded equally as broken as him and by the Goddess, if it didn’t twist his heart painfully beyond recognition. “I never wanted you to find out this way. Make of it what you will but please, just… give yourself time. Whatever comes to pass, know that I love you and I will support you.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Lorenz asked desperately.

“There’s no telling what he would have done if he thought we were against him. He can be… unpredictable,” Iria wavered, her tone noticeably hushed. The unsettling implications struck a sickeningly familiar chord and Lorenz felt he had somehow fallen asleep and was having a horrible nightmare.

“I see.” A lie. “Well. Thank you for your time. I believe that answers our questions.” Another lie. “I must be going now.”

“Oh, Lorenz,” Iria sniffed quietly, voice weary and reluctant but understanding. “Yes, of course. _Please_ , take care of yourself. I love you, my son.”

“And I as well, Mother.”

As soon as he hung up, his head was in his hands, the phone dropping uselessly to the floor and sliding under the bed. His lungs burned, as did his eyes, while his thoughts collapsed into buzzing static.

_Father…_

“Your mother sounds like a lovely woman,” Claude commented. His careful neutrality sliced through the thick silence and hovered in the air until it dissolved, going ignored. Seconds later, he stood, his voice following him out the room.

“I’ll give you some space.”

* * *

“How in the world did I get caught up in this folly?”

“It is not your fault.”

“Indeed. No one ever deserves to be subject to such cruelty in life.”

“But, why me? How could Father have done this to me?”

“I will say it as many times as I must. It is _not_ your fault, Lorenz.”

“As will I. The problem does not lie in you, but rather in that miserable wretch.”

“Yes, precisely. Do not trouble yourself with attempting to analyse his foul agenda.”

“You knew as well,” Lorenz eyed both of his guests. “Both of you knew, did you not?”

Ferdinand and Constance shared an uncomfortable look. As if sensing a disturbance in the air, they had arrived shortly after Claude left, letting themselves into the room and sitting beside him quietly. Lorenz would not have been able to resist even if he wanted to.

“I had my suspicions,” Ferdinand admitted, eyes averted. “I was concerned for you but I did not know how to properly intervene.”

“I, of course, lack the history that you two have, so I didn’t know until recently,” Constance gave her companion a pointed look. “Ferdinand shared some of his observations with me, namely how overworked you were during the summer break.”

“That is not important now, no?” Ferdinand’s body shook with a brief and poorly-suppressed nervous chuckle. “What is important is supporting our friend in times of hardship.”

 _Hardship_ , he says. Lorenz could have collapsed into laughter were he not exhausted in every sense of the word. His limbs, heart, mind, _everything_ , were numb yet simultaneously overwhelmed by the crushing weight of failure and betrayal and hopelessness. His heart, in particular, was a tangled mess that he couldn’t possibly listen to and decipher over all the noise it made, resonating in his ears and throat. He could choke, he could cry, he could scream until his lungs burned.

And yet what good would any of that accomplish?

“What am I to do now? To be disgraced by flesh and blood like a mere puppet on a string…” His hoarse voice sounded pathetic and unfamiliar to his own ears, a mirror of his inner being. “Everything I’ve worked towards all my life has been squandered. How can I possibly go on?”

“You shall forge your own path!” Constance declared, entirely sure of her claim.

No sooner than she had finished, Lorenz was shaking his head. “Impossible. The Corporation is all I know. I’ve worked towards that goal my entire life, single-minded and unwavering. I cannot stray now.”

Ferdinand hummed. “I do not believe you need to.”

Lorenz’s head shot up to look his friend in the eye, wordlessly urging him to elaborate, only to be assailed by a dizzy spell from the force of the movement. He felt Constance lean around him, just as surprised and curious as he himself was.

“I have always taken note of your proficiency in our business and economics classes,” Ferdinand continued. “In the classes we share, you are a model student. You take notes, ask questions, do homework and ace tests. And though it rubbed me quite the wrong way, you shared that same enthusiasm and admirable level of skill with gaining practical experience in the field. Business is built for you; it is what you do best. Leadership is what you do best. Do you not agree?”

Lorenz stilled. As humiliating as it was to acknowledge his own predictability, he found that he had no counterpoint. Ferdinand was correct; there was little he knew quite like the Corporation, though at this point, he would do rather do anything but readily submit to his father’s will.

“So, what do you propose?” Constance asked, her voice dripping with distaste. “Lorenz can hardly continue to bend to the will of that tyrant, now can he?”

“Of course, I am not asking that,” Ferdinand was hasty in his reply, frowning audibly as if the mere possibility offended him. “I propose that you continue towards the same goal but with a new lustre. Now that your eyes have been opened, you can aim for the top by your own free will and nobody else’s.”

“Then, once you are there, simply cut ties with your father and remove him from the family fortune! I can think of no greater act of defiance!” Constance had a devilish gleam in her eye as she cackled maniacally at her own idea.

“A cruel twist of fate would befit such a vile human,” unlike Constance, Ferdinand’s tone was wholly serious. “But that is a decision only you can make, Lorenz. And only if you feel it is the best option. I will not allow you to continue under his reign for nothing.”

Lorenz thought back to what Iria said, the tremor in her voice as she confided to him.

 _Unpredictable_.

Just what in the world did that mean? If he had been ignorant of his own ill treatment for nineteen years, he shuddered to think of what else had been going on that he had remained none the wiser to. Who else Father has hurt, betrayed, manipulated without regard.

Was Mother in danger?

Was immediate action necessary?

No, he realised with a sneer. If Father’s mistreatment truly has persisted for this long and Mother has managed to keep her smile throughout, then it was likely she was in no danger.

Still, could he afford the luxury of gathering himself, even if the situation was not explicitly urgent?

Iria requested that he give himself time. Back then, those hours that seemed like a lifetime ago, he was too distracted to truly know what she had meant. Now, those words called out to him and he didn’t think highly of what he heard. Sitting idle while such injustice was happening would make him just as reprehensible as Father, surely.

And yet, what other option did he have? Disregard her wishes and quite possibly worsen everything by intervening when she had advised against it? Betray his own mother, the only shining light in that home, just as Father had already done?

Were his hands tied, just as Mother’s seemed to be?

It wasn’t until Ferdinand laid an arm across his shoulders did Lorenz realise he had grasped fistfuls of his hair and was shaking with the effort of ordering his thoughts. His heart pounded, breaths echoing loudly in the quiet room. He gave up when he felt a hair’s breadth away from fainting from strain and disorientation.

“I do not think I can answer that yet.”

“Of course,” Ferdinand said without skipping a beat, his voice unbearably patient. “Your world has been shaken. We do not, nor would anyone else, expect you to have your next course of action figured out in a single day. To ask as much is entirely unrealistic, and insensitive to your feelings.”

“Truly?” Lorenz’s voice had sunken again, dipping to a low whisper.

“Quite right. You simply must stop being so hard on yourself,” Constance scolded, sounding eerily like his mother. “And now that you have awakened to the truth, you can discard such habits over time. Enbarr was not built in a day, as they say.”

“To think that it would turn out this way,” despite everything, Lorenz huffed a quiet laugh. “I feel… truly lost, but your words are greatly solacing.”

* * *

That weekend, Claude entered their room subdued.

“So… How are you feeling?” He asked, voice tentative.

Truth be told, Lorenz wouldn’t be able to describe how he felt even if he tried. His life had been halted and no longer made sense yet time still pressed on, unknowing and uncaring of his troubles. How could such a feeling be understood, let alone explained?

“I am perfectly fine,” he lied, lacking the will to even scoff. “There is no need to talk to me like a skittish animal.”

“Suggestion noted. Would you rather I talk to you like Lysithea does?”

That, at least, made Lorenz smile somewhat, even if nothing else that week had.

“Jokes aside,” Claude continued, “I heard you had company over the other night. Did that at least help a bit?”

“Yes, their presence was a tremendous comfort,” Lorenz said sincerely. “We began discussing my options going forward, though, regretfully, I am unable to come to a decision.”

“The future already?” In his surprise, Claude sat down on his bed to speak to Lorenz directly. “Are you alright with that?”

This time, Lorenz successfully mustered a scoff. “Certainly; why wouldn’t I be? I am hardly one to wallow in despair.”

“It’s not wallowing in despair, it’s giving yourself time to process,” that irritating look was back; the pitiful frown that belied Claude’s entirely-too-strong opinions. “You’re allowed to do that, you know.”

“My mother urged me to do the same,” Lorenz admitted, somewhat embarrassed. “I am… reluctant.”

“Why?” Claude asked in genuine curiosity.

Lorenz realised even he himself couldn’t explain why and curled in on himself, embarrassment morphing to frustration and impatience. “I do not know, Claude. What am I to do?”

“I don’t know,” came Claude’s answer, neutral and refusing to give anything away, if he even had anything to give.

Lorenz raised his head. His hair had fallen into his eyes and he was surely a mess yet found he hardly had the capacity to care. “What did you say?”

“I don’t know what you should do,” Claude repeated plainly. “Only you can decide what’s best for you. You’re your own person, Lorenz.”

Well. Lorenz’s insides were already an inscrutable jumble and this certainly didn’t help at all. If anything, it worsened his predicament; if only he could decide the best course of action and his addled mind, body and soul rendered him physically unable to make a decision, where in the world did that leave him?

Although, knowing that Claude was just as powerless and at a loss as he was provided its own strange, inexplicable feeling of comfort. Lorenz couldn’t decide if he was thankful for it or not.

Unknowing of his turmoil, or perhaps _too_ knowing, Claude pressed on. “But, I do know this: you don’t have to traverse this alone. I really think you should take a step back from it all just for a short time before you run yourself ragged trying to make the solution appear out of thin air.”

Lorenz didn’t have the energy to object, nor did he have the energy to continue fighting with himself. Perhaps Mother would be pleased by his next words.

“What did you have in mind?”

* * *

An hour later, Lorenz found himself in the recreations room, watching with childlike fascination as a bag of popcorn expanded in the microwave, popping loudly as the seconds ticked down. Raphael’s shock and outrage at the perceived injustice that he had never tried the snack had been almost comical and he had dragged Lorenz to the dining hall without delay. Meanwhile, Claude had somehow found the keys for the rec room and locked the small group inside while Ignatz perused the selection of movies the academy offered. His choice, in the end, was a family comedy that Lorenz wasn’t familiar with, nor could he follow over the sounds of his companion’s idle chatter.

Lorenz could almost laugh, not at the movie, but at the absurd situation he found himself in. Mere months ago, he never would have imagined himself engaging in something so juvenile as the aptly dubbed ‘movie night’, yet when the credits rolled, he was the first to suggest playing another. He also proposed, much to Raphael’s joy, that they order more food as the bowl of popcorn he had been sharing with Claude had suspiciously emptied itself.

As the hours dragged on, the four Deer tore their way through movie after movie until eventually abandoning them altogether and settling for simply talking instead. Eventually, Lorenz began suppressing yawns, as did his friends, and with those yawns came internal scolds and taunts that he was shirking his duty or committing some other disgraceful crime. To his shock, however, those reprimands silenced themselves when he laughed at the story Claude was telling and didn’t rear their ugly heads for the rest of the night.

It was impossible to describe the odd feeling that enveloped him that night. Then again, he noted, much of his feelings had been odd and indescribable as of late. The difference this time was that he hardly took notice of the way time passed them by until he woke up the next morning with a terrible crick in his neck, Ignatz drooling on his shoulder, and someone pounding loudly on the door. Through the haze of those first few moments after waking, in which a red-faced Ignatz apologised profusely while Lorenz attempted to stretch out his protesting limbs, Raphael lumbered over to the door and opened it to reveal a very unimpressed Seteth.

To say they were chased out, as Claude would later proudly proclaim in his retellings, was only a slight exaggeration.

“That was… not what I was expecting. Although, much of last night can be described as such,” Lorenz mused aloud back in the safety of their room, laying atop his bed and head nestled into his pillow in some semblance of rest. “I suppose I rather enjoyed myself, despite the less than stellar sleeping conditions.”

“You’ll get used to that,” Claude commented, grinning. “Hilda’s gonna be so mad we had a movie night without her, so expect a do-over soon enough.”

“I was afraid you would say more was to come. It seems I have no choice but to acquiesce,” Lorenz too found himself smiling, though it soon fell as a memory resurfaced. “Speaking of Hilda, do you recall when she barged in here last week? She made a particular comment that—”

“Don’t worry, she doesn’t know anything,” as if reading his mind, Claude cut him off. “All I told her was that you were acting off.”

“Ah. Thank you.”

Silence briefly settled over the room, broken seconds later by Claude.

“So, you had fun, then?”

“Indeed, I did,” Lorenz replied without hesitation. “Against all odds, I believe it was precisely what I needed. I feel… calmer.”

“Well, plenty more where that came from. The Golden Deer won’t have it any other way,” Claude was doubtless still smiling, though it sounded different to his usual cheeky grin. The atmosphere between them too felt different. More… freeing. Comfortable. Familiar. Lorenz wasn’t sure when, precisely, that occurred, but welcomed it with a sleepy smile as his eyes drooped in exhaustion.

Lorenz paused as the meaning of those words settled in. “Thank you, Claude. I do not know how I would be faring without you,” he murmured. The confession surprised even him but was quickly chalked up to sleep deprivation-induced delirium. If he was losing his grip in such a way, then he was surely past the threshold where he could respond to Claude’s chatter. Luckily, he seemed to have nothing more to say.

Perhaps all hope was not lost yet, his mind whispered just before he drifted off. Even the mightiest of buildings cannot stand tall without pillars of support, and it took coming so close to crumbling and collapsing that the pillars were all that held him up to see as much.

It seemed there was no limit to what he could learn in a single week.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not really sure when this fic became about addressing Lorenz's abuse, but I'm glad it did because I have a lot of feelings about it and haven't seen many people talk about it.
> 
> Of course, I've done my best to portray the subject matter with the nuance and sensitivity it deserves but if any of you readers are more knowledgable about this than me, p l e a s e don't hesitate to let me know if I've done well or fallen short. Getting this right is so important. 
> 
> If you'd like, you can follow my twitter @_star_hound_ ! I don't really post anything but I'm open to talking about fe3h or my writing!
> 
> Thanks so much for reading and I love you all <3


	14. Flames of Knowledge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lorenz makes a decision.

After such an eventful week, Lorenz wished dearly for his life to return to some semblance of normality.

However, life was rarely so merciful.

He still had yet to come to terms with it all. How could he, when the very foundation of his life had been stripped away? His stability, his structure, everything that he trusted and believed in and was always able to return to whenever his resolve wavered.

All of it, tarnished. Never to be the same again.

He didn’t know what normal meant anymore. Things that were unforgivable weeks or months ago were now commonplace. Some afternoons were spent doing nothing in particular with the Golden Deer and some were spent entirely alone. ‘Me time’, as Hilda put it. Those days ceased feeling like crimes or acts of unspeakable negligence.

Despite that, he still studied, of course. Still went to class and paid attention, still read and reread the material until he had memorised it, then read it once more. He was as diligent, as responsible as ever. Only, now he sometimes questioned _why_.Why going above and beyond continued to present itself as the only option.

He went to class and read the material because he was a student and it was the bare minimum of what he was expected to do.

But beyond that, what was all of this for?

Before all of this… nonsense, leading the Gloucester Corporation seemed such a natural course of action that he never once considered an alternative. It seemed unlikely that he would ever be offered one besides.

And yet, he had been. He could abandon the Corporation if he so wished. Mother had all but said outright that she would not fault him if he turned tail and ran, left it all behind and never looked back.Claude likely would not either, nor would Ferdinand or Constance. The thought boggled his mind.

He could turn his back if he wanted to, but _did_ he want to?

Considering it for even a second felt dangerous, like breaching deep into unknown territory. The first time that seed had been planted in his mind, it had been so unfathomable, even blasphemous, that he had wanted to physically recoil.

But it never went away.

Forcing himself to acknowledge that a situation previously considered implausible was not, in fact, so implausible was another matter entirely. The question continued to pop up at random times, seemingly to taunt him. He saw it on the cover of his textbook, on the screen of his phone, in Claude’s eyes.

_What do you want to do?_

The thought had addled him for over a week, which was why he found himself in the campus library, a place where his wits were always razor-sharp and focused, to finally answer it. He found an empty desk and laid a textbook out in front of him to feign studying, a travel mug of tea to help stimulate his mind tucked discreetly in his lap - another rule he normally would have never considered breaking.

All of the pieces were in place, and yet he was still no closer to answering that question.

Father had fallen from grace and Lorenz wished for all the world never to set foot in that house again. And yet, judging by Mother’s vague but worrying request, it seemed he didn’t have much of a choice on that front. Or, rather, he had merely been presented with the illusion of a choice. Knowing that, it seemed reckless to toss it all aside simply because he could, though he suspected his reason for such a stance ran deeper.

Foolish, lingering loyalty to Father?

A desire to see Mother’s request through?

Pure and simple cowardice?

Each option was as good as the last. He might as well walk outside and scream at the sky and clouds, at the Goddess herself, begging her and her unseen forces for an answer, to make it all make sense.

_What should I do?_

_What do I want?_

_Someone, please help me—_

“Lorenz?”

He pulled his head from between his palms—a terribly unbecoming habit he had developed in recent times—and looked up at the figure gazing down at him.

“Ah, Lysithea. Please take a seat,” he gestured at the empty space in front of him, hoping she hadn’t taken notice of the compromising position he had fallen into. “What brings you here today?”

She obeyed, giving him a look of confusion. “I’m here to study. That’s usually what libraries are for, you know. Normally I’d assume you’re doing the same, but that’s clearly not the case.”

“That transparent, am I?” He chuckled lowly at her usual biting sarcasm.

“Yes. You look hopeless with your head in your hands like that. Not to mention that textbook of yours isn’t even open,” she rolled her eyes. “I guess it doesn’t matter. Why do you look so miserable anyway?”

Lorenz paused. Where did he even begin?

Perhaps the strain of shouldering this burden and all the questions it brought on had taken its toll on him but it hardly seemed a bad idea to open his heart to her. She was his friend, after all. A fellow Deer searching for her place in the world, and it was not as though she could possibly complicate the situation even more.

Claude had told him that he did not need to carry this weight alone. Whether Lysithea agreed was a different matter, however, and one he would soon find out at that.

She frowned at his unresponsiveness, opening her mouth to comment, but Lorenz was faster.

“Have you ever felt so small and out of your element that every choice moving forward seems like the wrong one?”

Lysithea stilled, clearly caught off guard. The silence dragged on before she finally replied, a grim expression upon her face.

“To be entirely helpless and powerless as your world collapses around you?” She looked up and met his eyes. “Yes. I know the feeling well.”

Lorenz studied the table between them, suddenly embarrassed at his tactlessness. “O-Oh? I must confess, that is rather unexpected.”

“You’re the one who asked me. What sort of answer were you expecting?”

“I do not know. I was merely seeking relief.”

Quiet returned to their table, heavy and uncomfortable. Lysithea wrung her hands together, looking conflicted as though she was having trouble choosing her words.

“Lysithea,” Lorenz began desperately when the silence became too much. “I don’t know what I should do.”

She let out a soft sigh, though whether it was of exasperation at his childish bemoaning or something else, he didn’t know.

“Listen here,” she said, assertive. “I won’t claim to know precisely what you’re going through but I’ll tell you one thing. You need to live for yourself, and you can start by picking yourself up and having faith in your ability to keep moving forward.”

Stunned, Lorenz lifted his head. “Live… for myself?”

She nodded. “Correct. Do things because _you_ want to. Make decisions based on what _you_ think is right. Don’t let anything hold you back from your own life. Do you understand?”

He blinked, speechless. A new perspective, at long last? It seemed too good to be true.

“I—Yes, Lysithea, I don’t know what to say—“

“It’s fine. You don’t have to,” a small smile crossed her face then. “Now hush. You’ve cost me ten minutes worth of study time.”

* * *

“‘Live for yourself’, huh?” Claude mused aloud in their room that evening. “I like it. Who knew you could fit so much wisdom in such a tiny girl?”

“I’m going to tell her you said that.”

“Oh, there’s no need for that. What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her, right? That aside, it’s good advice, Lorenz. I think you should listen to her.”

“It is not as though I can simply flip a switch, Claude. If it worked that way, I would have done so long ago, before I began losing sleep.”

Claude’s eyes were on him in an instant. Curious patterns from the lava lamp dotted his face. “You’re losing sleep?”

“It is nothing to fret over,” Lorenz shook his head. “Sometimes, my mind is too active and refuses to settle down. Other times, I am awoken by dreams.”

Claude heaved a sigh to himself, running a hand through his hair. “I’m glad you’ve given yourself time, but… if you’re starting to lose sleep now, then…” he trailed off, unsure.

He didn’t need to finish. Lorenz understood. “Quite, although I still maintain the stance that you’re entirely too invested in this matter.”

“Too invested in the wellbeing of my friend and roommate? Yeah, you’re right, sounds like a big waste of time. Really, what _was_ I thinking?”

“Quiet down, you fool,” Lorenz chucked quietly.

Claude countered with laughter of his own. “Well, if you can talk to me like that, then you’re clearly on the mend. You’ll have to thank Lysithea at Leonie’s birthday this weekend.”

“Do not remind me,” Lorenz groaned, running a hand down his face. “Why is she insisting on bringing us all _axe-throwing_ , of all things?”

“Because it’s what she wanted,” Claude grinned at him. “Look on the bright side; you’ll be able to step out your comfort zone and exercise this whole ‘living for yourself’ thing. What better way to test this new theory than a fun day out with friends, doing something you never saw yourself doing before?”

“I suppose when you put it that way, I cannot disagree.”

_Live for yourself. Keep moving forward. It shan’t hurt to try._

Lorenz’s eyes were open. The answer was there, it had always been. It had only been a matter of time until he stopped blindly stumbling in the dark and struck a metaphorical match, letting the flames of knowledge burn bright and illuminate the hazy nothingness, to see it sitting in plain view.

“I think I will phone my mother tomorrow,” he murmured.

“Yeah?” Claude was hopeful, quickly sitting up in anticipation.

“Indeed,” Lorenz nodded, resolute. “I have decided to stay with the Corporation. I will rise to the top of my own volition and become far greater than Father ever was. He will know that Lorenz Hellman Gloucester will not give in so easily.”

Claude’s smile seemed to light up the room, even in the darkness of night.

* * *

On the morning of the 21st, Lorenz woke to sunlight streaming through the window. A clear blue sky greeted him as if the universe itself had taken notice of the metaphorical clouds that had been cleared from his mind.

After a brief phone call wherein pleasantries blossomed into a sincere and heartfelt discussion, Iria offered her outstanding support and that weight, too, was lifted from his shoulders. He couldn’t in good conscience say his life was now back to normal, and it likely would never revert to the state it was in before, yet Lorenz didn’t mind.

He may have felt like he had lost a part of himself, but that loss was nothing more than a challenge to overcome.

And overcome it he shall.

It was a mantra that his mind had repeated throughout the morning right up until he made his way through the reception hall and past the entrance of Garreg Mach in the early afternoon, where his thoughts promptly halted.

A bright rainbow soared overhead, a common sight during the Verdant Rain moon, but apt and encouraging nonetheless. The cold winds and rains were behind them now and in their place was warmth and colour. Lorenz couldn’t help the serene smile that spread across his face.

Claude appeared by his side a moment later. “Ready to go?”

“As ready as I will ever be for such brutish activities, I suppose,” though Lorenz complained, his smile did not waver.

“You know, you say that but I bet you’re going to be the most competitive one there,” Claude smiled wryly as they made a beeline for Lorenz’s car. “I know you well by now and there’s no way you’re letting such a prime opportunity to demonstrate your _magnificent strength_ to the girls pass you by.”

“Oh, please,” Lorenz rolled his eyes. “I wouldn’t dare attempt to steal the spotlight from Leonie on her birthday. You, on the other hand, are partial to showing off, and rather shamelessly at that.”

“You wound me, Lorenz.”

The drive progressed smoothly, filled with companionable conversation once Claude stopped fiddling with the radio. They arrived at the axe-throwing arena a short time later to find the other Deer gathered inside, waiting eagerly to begin. Though Lorenz was unaccustomed to the feeling of a weapon in his hands, the rules were easy enough to grasp and after a few tries, he landed his first bullseye. However, there was little time for him to preen at his achievement, as the Deer were quick to split into teams to compete with each other for points.

Lysithea and Marianne, lacking the strength to brave the weapons, chose to sit back and watch, leaving Lorenz, Leonie and Hilda to face off against Claude, Raphael and Ignatz. At first glance, the teams seemed horribly unbalanced, with the burly Raphael on one side and the lackadaisical Hilda on the other, yet Lorenz didn’t mind.

He would never admit it but it seemed Claude was right once again - though he cared little for the sport and, admittedly, held not the same talent for it as Leonie or Raphael, even he was not immune to the thrill of competition. As each round progressed, he smiled watching his teammates and opponents alike encourage each other, let Claude’s playful jeering spur him on and even found himself cheering for Hilda when she began demonstrating an unexpected and impressive skill late in the round and seized victory.

The second round fared much the same, as did the third, until Claude came from behind to steal the win for his team in the blink of an eye. Following this upset, Lorenz competed with renewed vigour in the fourth round and assured his team’s win with no small amount of pride. In the midst of his good-natured gloating, he began to feel the ache of his muscles and noticed with dull surprise that the sun was beginning to set. After pointing out the time, the Deer responded with various murmurs of agreement, barring Claude who grinned devilishly.

“Party’s not over yet! I made reservations at a little place nearby. Surprise!”

An hour later, when the sun had long since set as evening had fallen, Lorenz quietly watched his friends converse as he concentrated on finishing his soup. Though his exhaustion had grown, his good mood still persisted, especially as he watched the Deer talk and laugh without a care in the world. He felt comfortable among this group, despite the questionable nature of their table manners and the trivial gossip they were currently revelling in.

“—and then she tried to fight the manager! If Ashe wasn’t there to stop her, we’d probably be watching Petra beat the snot out of that manager at a pay-per-view match right about now.”

Lorenz had tuned Claude’s story out halfway through and jumped as boisterous laughter filled his ears. Hilda noticed, giving him a quizzical look over her wine glass.

“You okay, Lorenz? You seem a bit quiet.”

Hearing her question, Claude promptly dropped out of the group conversation, subtly listening in for an answer. If it weren’t for the two being seated directly opposite of each other, Lorenz may not have noticed.

“Yes, I am quite alright,” it was the first time in quite some time that he could say as much and mean it wholeheartedly. “A mite fatigued after the tournament earlier, but perfectly fine.”

“Don’t worry, I know _exactly_ what you mean,” Hilda gestured wildly with her glass, nearly sloshing its contents all over Ignatz on the other side of her. Lorenz wondered offhandedly how many she had had. “I mean, I dunno how I ended up being so good at it but bragging rights are so _not_ worth it for how sweaty I got. Remind me to never put effort into anything again, okay?”

Before he could answer, and perhaps attempt to sneakily take her glass from her, Lorenz’s phone rung inside his pocket. He retrieved it without delay, eager for a distraction.

> **_Father_ **

That certainly wasn’t good. There was no way he could answer in such a crowded place without arousing suspicion but he couldn’t let it ring out either, as much as he wished to. Father was the last person Lorenz wanted to speak to that moment, and likely in every moment to come, but he still had responsibilities to tend to, even though he had managed to secretly attach his own agenda to them.

Thinking on his feet, Lorenz slid out from his seat with a hurried “excuse me” before rushing out to the lobby where it was, thankfully, quieter. He answered on the sixth ring, seconds before the call would have gone to his voicemail.

“Hello, Father. How are you this fine evening?”

An annoyed huff assaulted his ears. “You have some nerve, making me wait for so long. What are you scheming, boy, and where did you learn such impudence?”

Lorenz suppressed a weary sigh. As pleasant as always.

“My apologies, Father. I am studying right now and did not notice your call at first. I will take greater care in the future.”

As if spiting him, a car chose that moment to zoom past the restaurant, the roar of its engine audible even from inside. Lorenz winced.

“Studying, eh? In that case, do you mind telling me what, precisely, that noise just was?” Lorenz couldn’t place his father’s tone but detected traces of a smirk. It made his skin crawl.

“I do not know. Perhaps some of my neighbours are engaging in horseplay again. I will see to it that they cease as soon as I hang up.” It was not the first time he had lied to his father and would not be the last. Despite his hammering heart, Lorenz’s voice remained steady as he willed the conversation to end.

“Are you lying to me? You should know full well the consequences of that by now,” Gloucester’s voice lowered to a dangerous growl.

“Of course not,” Lorenz clicked his tongue, doing his best to sound offended. “I’ve told you how uncouth the students here can be.”

“Quite,” Gloucester did not sound convinced by any stretch of the imagination but chose not to press the matter further. “Now that that entirely pointless discussion is out of the way, I’ll have you know there is a reason I called.”

“Whatever could that be?”

“Do not interrupt me," the reprimand came quickly, as if instinctual. "Your mother suggested I call and see to it that you have—ahem— _recovered_ after that brief time spent working with me.”

Lorenz grit his teeth lightly, forcing the suspicion that instantly consumed him out of his tone. “That was… kind of her. But do not worry, I am quite—“

“Spare me the drivel,” his father cut him off without shame, likely rolling his eyes on the other end. “A terrible display you showed me, but I know Gloucester men do not give up so easily.”

Lorenz gave a twisted smile. Father’s words rang truer than he could ever imagine.

“Naturally, I have another, more important reason for calling. I will only say it once, so listen well, boy,” Gloucester continued, his voice stone cold. “If you ever give such a pitiful performance again, you will never ascend to my position. You will never even catch a _glimpse_ of success. I will appoint another heir and I do not think you wish to see how easily I can do that. Do I make myself clear?”

To keep himself from throwing it across the room, Lorenz grasped his phone as tightly as he could until he was sure the buttons would leave indentations in his palm. “Of course, Father,” he grit out.

“Excellent. Now, I will allow you to continue with your _studying_ ,” Father sounded mocking but quickly hung up before Lorenz could say anything more.

It took him several moments to process the conversation. He had been threatened with disinheritance and the like in the past but Father had never made a point of stressing how effortlessly the deed could be done. Instantly, he decided that it was a bluff, and a cruel one at that, to avoid considering the implications. But beyond that, he felt conflicted. Logically, he knew that he should be seething with rage at Father’s utter heinousness, or at the very least annoyed at having his night interrupted, but instead, he felt nothing. A quiet calmness, in fact.

“Hey,” Claude’s voice suddenly said from behind.

Lorenz jumped. “By the Goddess, Claude. You mustn’t sneak up on me like that.”

Claude ignored him, concern written on his face. “Doing okay out here?”

Ah. Of course he knew.

“Yes, I will—I can tell you later if you’d like.”

“Sure, if you want to,” Claude turned to look over his shoulder, where the Deer had followed him out and begun to disperse. He smiled, moving to do the same. “I think we’re all heading back now anyway. Looks like the party fell apart without you.”

Lorenz followed his lead, father forgotten for the time being. “Naturally. I am such a remarkable entertainer, the life of the party, if you will, that there is little wonder the festivities would die down without my presence.”

* * *

“—and that's when you appeared,” Lorenz finished.

To say that Claude had dragged the story out of him would be a sizeable exaggeration, unlike the instance at the café last month. Seeing little reason to begin keeping secrets now, Lorenz had been persuaded by a single quiet look and gave up the details without complaint. So, they simply sat and spoke in their room as the clock ticked closer to midnight. Lorenz had stifled several yawns since their return but Claude seemed full of energy, pacing in circles around the centre of the room.

“That is—” he cut himself off, letting out a growl of frustration. “That is unbelievable.”

“I am just as displeased as you, though this is rather par for the course for him.”

“‘Displeased’?” Claude halted, turning eyes filled with disgust at him. “No, Lorenz, displeased is when you’re given a bunch of homework on a Friday afternoon. Displeased is getting stopped at every red light on the way to the mall. Your father threatening to throw you out and replace you with someone else doesn’t displease me. It _sickens_ me.”

Lorenz sighed, a hand massaging his temple where a headache was beginning to form. “Yes, I know. You are right; he is… sickening, and I wish I could communicate as much to him. Unfortunately, I cannot, nor can I do much else but gripe about it to you.”

“I know, I know,” Claude deflated like a child being scolded by his parents. “It’s just… I hate that you can’t do anything about it and have to keep playing along. It’s not fair.”

“No,” Lorenz agreed, looking down at his hands. “It is not.”

Claude shifted uncomfortably, before sighing and collapsing down onto his bed. “I wish there was more I could do but…” he trailed off, shrugging.

Lorenz held up a hand. “You’ve already done plenty. I would not be where I am now without your influence.” For some reason, seeing Claude look so troubled provoked something within him. He pointedly cleared his throat, deciding to humour him. “Or your meddling, I should say.”

“Noted. I’ll take care to keep my grubby, knowledge-seeking hands to myself from now on.”

“You and I both know that will not happen.”

Claude chuckled softly to himself, smiling half-heartedly. The tension in the room appeared to have evaporated before that telltale frown eventually wormed its way back onto his face.

“So, what do you plan to do moving forward? You can’t put up with this crap forever.”

Lorenz thought for a moment. “For the foreseeable future, it seems I will have to ‘play along’, for as long as I feasibly can. That would include returning home for winter break, for instance.”

“You’re going back there?!” Claude spat, incredulous. “Can I implore you to _not_ do that? It’s just going to be history repeating itself, like nothing’s changed.”

“It will not be that way at all,” Lorenz countered with a sudden adamancy. “Regrettably, I cannot deny or help that he still has some level of control over my life. But he does not control everything, and gone are the days when I would let him.

“Gone are the days when I was a subservient puppet.”

* * *


	15. Quiet Defiance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chaos and respite clash when Lorenz attends a party.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: alcohol
> 
> disclaimer: everyone drinking in this chapter and all other chapters that feature alcohol is of legal age to do so in my country of Australia. Drink responsibly, dear readers!

Lorenz was no stranger to parties.

Even before this year, before he befriended such lively, chaotic people as the Golden Deer, he knew what the average college party consisted of. He had been to a few himself, more out of a sense of curiosity than anything unseemly, and quickly learned that the excess drinking, dancing, loud music and shameless… displays of affection repelled him more than anything.

So, he wasn’t immediately thrilled when Claude eagerly revealed his plan to throw a party for Leicester Founding Day.

The 8th day of the Horsebow moon was quite the occasion in their homeland and families everywhere traditionally rejoiced. Lorenz himself had attended quite a few such celebrations; ones hosted by Father in the estate, where adults gathered to make pleasant conversation, drink expensive champagne and waltz the night away.

Lorenz, being the sort of boy who preferred the company of mature, refined adults to their loud, obnoxious children, had enjoyed these extravagancies. He enjoyed observing the adults around him and modelling his behaviour after theirs so he would eventually grow into the perfect gentleman. He enjoyed those same people later praising him for being so polite and well-behaved while Father looked on, smiling haughtily.

Perhaps those memories were what eventually prompted him to smile at Claude and say, “That sounds like a splendid idea.”

* * *

The party that Claude threw somehow managed to simultaneously be exactly what he expected and absolutely nothing like what he expected.

The 8th had fallen in the middle of the week but Claude cleverly waited until several days later, when the faculty had gone home for the weekend, to kick off the celebrations by popping the cork on a wine bottle that Lorenz had no idea how he managed to get his hands on. Then, mere minutes later, the rec room was overflowing with students both familiar and unfamiliar while music blared from some unseen source.

He wasn’t sure why, but it seemed appropriate for Claude to invite students from all walks of life to participate in Leicester Founding Day celebrations.

Despite his natural desire to chaperone and preserve the secrecy of the event by cleaning up, Lorenz had learned first-hand that policing a party was an effective way to become the least popular guest present and be promptly thrown out. He was not interested in making that particular mistake again.

His first instinct suppressed, he looked to his second: leave and spend the night in his room in peace and quiet. However, he couldn’t do that either, for it would doubtless reflect poorly on him to be seen storming out of a party celebrating the history of his homeland so shortly after it had begun.

So, he had taken to occupying a space on the couch in the centre of the room, sipping a cup of water and carefully observing the imbeciles around him. Among them, he spied Sylvain leaning close to some poor, unsuspecting young woman before Ingrid appeared to slap him upside the head and drag him away, Dorothea engaging in impromptu karaoke and singing into her bottle of… whatever she was drinking, and Caspar running up and launching himself in a slide across a long table where other people’s drinks sat.

All in all, nothing to bat an eye at if you had been around these people for more than a moment.

Before long, Claude found him and, noticing his sullen mood and solitude, invited him over to participate in a game of what he called ‘beer pong’.

“That name does not leave much to the imagination, nor does it sound like something I would ever want to waste my time with,” Lorenz protested, but nonetheless let himself be led to the ping-pong table set up in a far corner of the room.

“No one’s forcing you,” Claude reminded him. “At least let me explain the rules, then you can decide if you want to join in, okay?”

Lorenz listened, resigned to his fate, as Claude explained the premise of their little game. It sounded almost mind-numbingly simple, taking turns tossing balls across the table and drinking from the cups that they landed in, and he wondered what the appeal was before remembering himself.

_I am at a college party. These fools will do anything to drink themselves into a stupor._

“So, you in?” Claude asked, hopeful.

“This is the most ridiculous, juvenile, senseless, idiotic game I have ever heard,” Lorenz wanted to say. It was the truth, after all.

Instead, more memories surfaced of his father’s galas from years past. A younger him, eleven or twelve, eyeing the glasses and bottles that all the adults seemed so fond of, deadly curious to try some but not daring to ask. Now, at nineteen years of age, he found himself face to face with those same forbidden liquids, less enticing in red plastic cups than crystal glasses but within arms reach nonetheless, and said, “Very well.”

Even Claude looked shocked before quickly collecting himself. “Great! You and me versus Hilda and Leonie it is.”

Beer pong, as it turned out, was precisely as simple as Claude described and even more mystifying. With a smug smile, Leonie sunk the ball on her first throw, prompting Claude to loudly groan at his bad luck before tossing his head back and downing the corresponding cup in a single motion. Onlookers whooped and cheered, apparently pleased the spectacle had gotten interesting so quickly. The game began in earnest then and both teams traded throws back and forth with limited success. It took Lorenz several tries before he even got close to landing in a cup and in the meantime, even Hilda managed to score before he did.

“That’s your cue, Lorenz,” Claude said amusedly over Hilda’s triumphant screeching, patting him on the back as if encouraging him.

Lorenz tentatively picked up the cup in question, plucked the ball out and stared suspiciously at the liquid inside. He had never drunk something as unsophisticated as beer and had limited experience with alcohol in general, so the feeling of the cup in his hand was heavier than it ought to be for such an unassuming object. But with so many pairs of eyes on him, watching in anticipation, he couldn’t let himself dawdle. With a deep breath, he swallowed his pride.

“If only Father could see me now,” he muttered to himself before mimicking Claude’s motion of tipping back his head and drinking the beer. Immediately, his lips twisted in disgust and for a single, panicked moment, Lorenz was certain he had made a terrible mistake, disgracing himself in this way. Before he could truly lose himself, he recognised the sounds of opponents and spectators alike cheering. By the looks of sincere joy on their faces, they weren’t taunting him for debasing himself but rather were excited that he had complied with his role in the game. Just as they had been with the other competitors.

“Not a fan?” Claude asked, laying a hand on his shoulder. He seemed… closer than usual. “You can stop if you don’t like it. You know that, right?”

Lorenz swallowed thickly, the unpleasant taste of cheap alcohol still dancing on his tongue. “On the contrary,” he turned narrowed eyes onto Hilda and her sugary-sweet smile, “I think I’d like to get her back for that.”

Claude beamed, his eyes glinting. “That’s the spirit! We’ll get them both back; Leonie’s been playing _far_ too well for my liking.”

Those words would soon come back to bite them, earning Lorenz a loss in his first and only game of beer pong.

He and Claude had been the first to empty all ten of their cups while four still remained on the opposite side. Thanks to Leonie’s precision, Claude had laid claim to seven of them, the poor man. In the end, he had been unable to exact revenge and now leaned against the table, twirling one of the empty cups around his finger. Lorenz, meanwhile, felt largely the same, if unimpressed.

“Who’s up for round two?” Claude called out to the victors, grinning like he hadn’t just lost horribly.

“One is more than enough,” Lorenz answered in their place, ignoring Hilda’s whine of disapproval. “Not all of us can enjoy such lowly drinking games. I will be elsewhere if you need me.”

Claude turned, straightening and refilling the cups on the table. “Not gonna stay and watch one more?”

Lorenz wanted to, as one of the few levelheaded people in the room and as Claude’s friend, roommate and occasional unofficial supervisor. Who knew what sort of mayhem Claude could get up to without him?

 _“No,”_ he scolded himself, _“that is ridiculous.”_ Claude was responsible for taking care of himself and Lorenz was not his babysitter, nor would he waste his time attempting to be one.

“I think not,” he scoffed. “Certainly you’re aware that this lunacy is far removed from what I would call fun. Please do not do anything foolish in my absence.”

Claude shot a glance over his shoulder. Lorenz glimpsed a relaxed smile and ever so slightly hazy eyes. “Yeah, yeah, you can trust me. Go have fun; I’ll be just fine here without a team— Hey, Raphael! Come here and be my teammate!”

“Okay!” A loud bellow sounded from across the room before Lorenz could protest.

Trust? Yes, he supposed he did trust Claude. It was a predictable result of Claude rising up to act as a pillar of support, keeping Lorenz stable through his suffering, even when there was no discernible benefit to him doing so. If that was not enough to earn a man’s good graces after the rocky beginnings they had overcome, what was?

He trusted Claude to pace himself, knowing him to be brighter and more aware than he let on, and trusted him in more general circumstances as well. He did not need Lorenz to watch over his shoulder and ensure he was not getting into mischief.

He could take care of himself.

* * *

The soft dark blue of the sky between afternoon and evening was a most welcome sight.

He wasn’t sure how he had spent an hour milling about inside before a chance encounter with Ferdinand and Constance had landed him out here. All he recalled was the former sliding up out of nowhere, cup in hand and his smile lazy, while the latter followed closely with no small amount of exasperation. They agreed to relocate to someplace quieter after the racket became too much, though not before Constance steered them past the refrigerator and produced three bottles of water. A wise decision, Lorenz thought, seeing the blush upon their friend’s cheeks. Then they came across a quiet area in the courtyard, a sufficient enough distance from the sound that seemed to follow them halfway across the campus grounds.

“I simply do not understand parties,” Constance said after a short time. “What could possibly be appealing about drinking until you forget your own name, to the tune of screeching music and the din of five dozen people?”

“I could not agree more,” Lorenz groused. “You would not believe my night thus far. Claude roped me into a game of beer pong of all things.”

Ferdinand choked on his water. “ _Beer pong?!_ Ha! I will believe _that_ when I see it.”

“Unfortunately, you will not believe it in that case, for I am ashamed enough to have played just one game.”

“There is nothing to be ashamed about,” Constance put forth matter-of-factly. “Such games may seem unsavoury in concept but there is no shame in trying new things and allowing yourself to relax for just a short time.”

“You seem well-informed on the subject,” Ferdinand observed. “Have you also played before?”

“I have, yes. My wolf pack enjoy such methods of time-wasting and I am often powerless to their skills of persuasion. Usually, the absurdity of the situation becomes the most enjoyable part and against all odds, I find myself having fun after a while.”

Lorenz recalled how Claude had managed to hit Leonie in the head with a misaimed throw towards the end. Leonie, though briefly startled, had been a good sport and laughed along with everyone else at her own expense. “I suppose it was humorous to see Claude and Hilda make fools of themselves as the game progressed. Though it would take a miracle to convince me to play again.”

“See? All is well!” Constance beamed as if impressed by her own point. “And you, Ferdinand? Do you often indulge in such simple pleasures here?”

“Unlikely,” Lorenz answered for him, chuckling. “Hubert seems not the type to lower your guard around.”

Ferdinand scoffed. “You are right on both counts, though Hubert has no control over when or how I relax.”

“Still unable to play nice, hm?”

“Oh, please. We are not two children unable to share our toys. Lorenz understands, I bet.”

“Do not drag me into your petty squabbling,” Lorenz met his friend’s wry smile with one of amusement.

Ferdinand tipped his head back towards the sky as he reminisced. “No, I am serious. I remember when you and Claude first met. You told me the very next morning that you believed he came to Garreg Mach to uproot your life as you know it. That was six months ago and now look at you. The best of friends.”

“Come now, don’t you think you’re exaggerating?” Lorenz felt his cheeks begin to burn and chalked it up to the alcohol, remembering the redness upon his friend’s own face not long before. Never mind that neither the quality nor the quantity of what he had consumed was enough to affect him. “Claude and I may have grown over the course of our time as roommates, but I would hardly call us ‘the best of friends’. Why, I still know barely a thing about him.”

His mind stuttered and halted at the admittance.

“Pardon?” Constance asked, dashing any hopes that they would ignore the statement. “Could you perhaps elaborate?”

“For all the talking Claude does, he has neglected to tell me even the most basic things about himself,” Lorenz had never delved deep into this train of thought but now that he had, it felt so glaringly obvious that he wondered how he had gone so long without doing it earlier. “To this day, I do not even know his birthday, his aspirations, how he grew up, even his favourite blend of coffee.”

“That seems… strange,” Ferdinand looked uncomfortable, almost guilty as if the subject change was his fault. “Can you think of a reason why he may withhold that information from you?”

“I find it hard to believe that such topics would not naturally come up, even in the form of simple small talk, so I am more inclined to believe he is purposely hiding them. However, I cannot imagine why he would do that. It has long since been apparent that Claude is a man who holds his cards close to his chest, but one would think that after I have so frequently bared my innermost thoughts to him, he would have no qualms about doing the same.”

Briefly, Lorenz was surprised at himself and the fervour at which he came to this conclusion. All the same, it was undoubtedly true that he had given much to Claude but received almost nothing in return. Faced with such a realisation, he felt a dull pang in his chest of something he couldn’t name.

“How odd,” Constance agreed. “Of course, we are not as intimately acquainted with him as you are. You would do well to raise this discrepancy with him yourself if it is answers you seek.”

Silently agreeing, Lorenz produced his phone and began typing out a message. As if discouraging him from acting so soon, a message from someone else appeared before he could hit send. His two friends turned and looked expectantly, curiosity piqued.

> **Direct Message**   
>  **Horsebow 11 6:48 pm**
> 
> **(Unregistered Contact):** Young Master, I immediately request your presence at the gates of Garreg Mach.

“What in the world?” Lorenz breathed.

Though the contact was unregistered, it was immediately obvious who it actually was. What was _not_ obvious was everything else. The why, the how, the what. Lorenz was so baffled that he had no answer to his friend’s concerned looks and settled for stumbling to his feet and starting towards the gates.

* * *

As expected, a black limousine rested beyond the gate, almost invisible if not for the bright headlights shining. A figure rested against the driver’s door, smoking a cigarette.

“Bernard,” Lorenz said, a flat sound of impatience. “What are you doing here?”

“Is that any way to greet an elder?” Bernard scoffed, affronted. “I have come to check in on you to ensure that you are doing your part.”

“Unannounced, at seven o’clock on a Friday?”

Bernard dismissively flicked his cigarette on the ground and stubbed it out beneath his shoe. “It came to your father’s attention that phone calls and visits ahead of time can easily be manipulated.”

“I assure you, Father has been doing far more manipulating than I,” was what Lorenz wished he could say, before remembering Iria’s plea. How tired he was growing of continuously being strong-armed. How quickly his attitude had changed.

“I understand,” he said instead. Though he was unable to freely speak his mind, he settled for showing his irritation by raising his chin and unflinchingly meeting Bernard’s gaze head-on. No longer would he let himself be intimidated.

“Excellent,” Bernard smiled smugly. “But first, I couldn’t help but notice what looked to be flashing lights and a large crowd of people as I passed by a nearby building. Is someone hosting a party, perchance?”

This was undoubtedly part of the test, Lorenz realised as his heart began to beat ever so slightly quicker. One of these days, he would become numb to this madness. “Indeed. You know how uncivilised the youth of today can be,” he made a show of shaking his head and sighing disappointedly.

Bernard chuckled at that, apparently seeing his complaints as an attempt to break the ice. “Unfortunately, I do. I trust you’ve maintained your distance, then?”

“That should go without saying, I’d hope. I care little for such frivolities.”

“Yes, after watching you grow up, I have faith you’d never stoop to such lows,” Bernard leaned to the side, looking behind Lorenz. “But, as you know, you can never be too careful! I’m sure your little friends would agree.”

Lorenz turned as well. He hadn’t noticed they’d followed him there but felt stronger in having them by his side. Ferdinand wore a tight-lipped smile, barely concealing his mistrust of the man before them, while Constance made no attempt to hide her disdain and openly glared at Bernard.

“But of course,” she spat. “Our dear Lorenz is not one to engage in such lowly subterfuge.”

Her words were piercing and deliberately punctuated. Lorenz had never felt so thankful for her short temper.

“I must agree,” Ferdinand added flippantly. “I do not know what you were hoping to find here tonight but I can confirm that any suspicion you may feel is entirely misplaced.”

Bernard said nothing, letting their words sink in. “How heartwarming,” he said flatly, “that these friends of yours are willing to stand by you.”

Lorenz waved a hand, his motions fluid with relief. “It is as they say. There is nothing on my agenda that is of any concern to you.”

“Don’t be so sure,” Bernard let out a boisterous guffaw. Lorenz did not laugh back. “I’m certain you know by now the magnitude of your responsibility. Even the most trivial things can impede your progress, you know. Your father is just as responsible for paving the glorious path before you as you are for walking it.”

Lorenz suddenly felt sick to his stomach and longed to rid his sight of this man.

“Mm. I am well aware. Now, if that’s all you needed from me, then I believe I should head back inside. Time spent making leisurely conversation could be better spent studying, as they say.”

Bernard blinked. “Very well, young Master. If you are certain there is nothing to report.”

“I am. You’d best make haste - I don’t imagine the faculty would be very pleased if they caught wind that a strange man was spotted here speaking to a student after hours. Good day, Bernard.”

And then Lorenz spun on his heel, setting off in the opposite direction to nowhere in particular. Somewhere out of earshot of the limousine’s engine. Ferdinand and Constance were back at his side in an instant, both trying to talk over the other.

“Ugh, the audacity of that man! I cannot believe he would send his lackey out here—“

“—rather unfortunate, though I applaud your restraint—“

“—utterly despicable. How either of them could have ever been considered an ally is beyond me—“

“—however, now is not the time. If we were to put our heads together and unify—“

“Please, calm yourselves,” Lorenz pleaded, a hand at his temple. He suddenly felt exhausted, in more ways than one, and their clamouring was doing nothing for the dull pound steadily growing behind his eyes. “I think I may head back inside after all.”

“Back to the party?” Ferdinand asked, perplexed.

Lorenz hesitated to say the encounter had ruined his night, as he hadn’t been in the sunniest of moods beforehand, but the prospect of doing anything but returning to his room and retiring early seemed to worsen the throbbing pain in his head. Even now, in the stillness of the courtyard, his ears rung with the shouts of his carefree peers. He sighed, brows knitting together.

“No, not the party. To my room. It is getting rather late, after all.”

“It’s barely past 7 pm,” Constance pointed out half-heartedly.

“Apologies. Perhaps I‘m coming down with something but I do feel rather tired,” Lorenz changed course to the direction of Dorm B and entered the elevator alone.

This was a new development. Father was beginning to wise up and had sent Bernard to monitor him like a lab specimen. Sent him out to Garreg Mach, where Lorenz had thought he was safe. His head swam and he took a ragged gulp from the water bottle he had kept with him. Control was slipping away by the day. How could he begin to manage this?

 _“No,”_ his mind roared, grounding him. He clenched his fists, the bottle crinkling loudly in his grip. _“My fear is exactly what Father wants, and I will not let him have it.”_

He stumbled out of the elevator and briskly started towards the bathroom to begin his nightly routine. Teeth, hair and skin; quicker than usual but not to the degree that he could be called careless. In his room, he unlocked his phone, remembering the half-typed message to Claude, and hastily hit send before he could reconsider.

> **Direct Message**   
>  **Horsebow 11 7:36 pm**
> 
> **Lorenz H. Gloucester:** When is your birthday?

Early next morning, he woke drenched in his own sweat, forcefully pulled from the depths of his slumber by writhing, black hands circling around his neck and ensnaring him until he couldn’t breathe while distorted voices hollered and howled and screamed like banshees. Through his bleariness, he rolled over and checked the time to see that he had received no reply.

Furthermore, the bed beside him was empty.

* * *


	16. The Unsolvable Puzzle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Equilibrium shifts when Lorenz shares his concerns with Claude.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and now it begins 🔥👀

The hours seemed to drag on endlessly once Lorenz came to his senses.

Initially, he simply assumed Claude was still off enjoying himself. He grimaced when the thought made itself known; while the idea of celebrating well into the early morning was woefully unappealing to him, it was a possibility for Claude nonetheless and nothing worth fretting over.

However, when it became apparent that that was _not_ the case, Lorenz took to phoning all six of the remaining Deer with no success. His unrest doubled, and later tripled, when he began to rack his brain, conjuring up all sorts of increasingly horrid scenarios until his skin had paled and his hair was mussed from restlessly running his hands through it. It was a miracle he had the day off, for he would doubtless be incapable of concentrating in class even if his life depended on it.

Afternoon fell and Claude still hadn’t shown himself, nor responded to any of the missed calls or text messages Lorenz had left. His heart pounded, white-hot with panic, and he considered reporting the disappearance to Seteth or even Rhea, the headmistress.

And then Claude had the audacity to stroll in, as fresh as a daisy and not a hair out of place.

Lorenz crossed the room in two long strides, looming over him like a disappointed parent. “Claude, you utter imbecile, where have you been? Explain yourself, this instant.”

Claude brushed past with a wave of his hand and collapsed down on his bed. “No, thanks. To quote someone, it’s nothing you need to concern yourself with.”

Lorenz watched, mouth gaping in indignance. “I beg to differ. You vanished for almost _a_ _day_ and I’ve been worried sick. I’m afraid that now is not the time for your secrets.”

“Come on, it’s not a big deal—“

“Silence,” Lorenz barked, hands on his hips. “How dare you act so flippantly? I was a hair’s breadth from alerting the faculty and this is the greeting I get?”

Surprised by the sharp tone, Claude looked up and seemed to reconsider upon seeing Lorenz’s haggard appearance. His face fell and he averted his eyes with a sigh.

“My grandfather’s retiring and I got called in to discuss who’s going to take over the firm. He’s always wanted me to do it but I’ve never been especially interested. My destiny lies elsewhere. So we decided to pass the torch to a close associate who happens to be in Almyra right now, hence this happening overnight. Timezones, you know?

”Needless to say, I was exhausted when it was all over so I went back to my grandfather’s house and took a nice, long nap. Good thing it’s the weekend, am I right? Anyway, it’s all been taken care of now. Nothing to worry about.”

Taking a seat opposite Claude, Lorenz said nothing as he digested the information. Despite his attempts to break the tension in the room with jokes, the intricate level of detail indicated Claude was telling the truth. After many months of only knowing the bare minimum, wringing the truth out of him felt like a grand achievement.

Lorenz let himself breathe deeply. Claude was here, safe and sound, and all of his worrying had been for naught. There was no denying the relief that seemed to warm his being.

But he would not allow Claude to get away with such a show of recklessness.

“Could you not have informed me where you were? That you were safe, at the very least?”

Claude met his eyes once more, smiling a strange smile. “Yeah. I guess I could have.”

Lorenz’s brows furrowed in confusion. His immediate instinct was to demand “ _then_ _why didn’t you?”_ before another idea occurred to him.

“There is something I would like to ask you.”

“I think I can clear my schedule. What’s up?”

A million questions danced on the tip of Lorenz’s tongue but he ignored every single one in favour of something else.

“Good. I must know… when is your birthday?”

Claude blinked. “What?”

“Your birthday,” Lorenz repeated. “I would very much like to know when it is.”

“Yeah, no, I heard you,” Claude frowned, perplexed. “It’s just— Why do you want to know that all of a sudden?”

“Is there a problem?” Lorenz kept his tone even. For once, Claude would be the one to reveal his hand first.

“Well, no. But you can’t act all serious and foreboding, then just ask… _that_.”

“Why not?”

“You know, you can be really—“ Claude cut himself off with a harsh exhale. Lorenz was growing similarly impatient; the exchange was awfully drawn out for such a mundane question. “Nevermind. My birthday’s the 24th of the Blue Sea.”

“Thank you. That was mostly effortless—“ Lorenz stilled, frowning as the words sunk in. “The Blue Sea, you say? That’s quite close to mine. Why was I not aware?”

Claude shrugged. “That was the same weekend summer break ended. If I recall, you had bigger fish to fry at that time.”

Lorenz paused in reflection. Memories from that time crept back in small fragments. What could have possibly happened during that time that could distract from such an occasion?

Suddenly, a terrible thought struck like a bolt of lightning and he snatched his phone from his nightstand. He opened Hilda’s media profile and scrolled back several months, eyes widening when he came across a familiar picture. A familiar group seated in a familiar arrangement and eating at a familiar diner.

He remembered how his eyes burned with unshed tears after looking at this picture for too long. He remembered the difficult conversation beforehand that was responsible for such a visceral reaction. He didn’t know it at the time but that was the day his life changed forever. The day he was forced to consider the unthinkable until the unthinkable came true.

His smile was still _so_ bright, _so_ happy.

Lorenz was distantly aware of himself scrolling down further to check the upload date.

The 24th of the Blue Sea.

He let the phone fall from his hand and onto the bed with a soft thud.

His voice was quiet and faraway when he spoke. A dull pain throbbed in his heart.

”Claude. Did you spend your birthday with me in a café, attempting to break me out of the lie I was living?”

Claude grinned. Like so many of his grins, it didn’t meet his eyes. “Perhaps.”

“Why?”

“Like I said, bigger fish to fry.”

Pulling his hand from where it kneaded at his temple, Lorenz all but leapt to his feet and crossed the room to comb his hair into presentability. What was the use in dwelling on missed opportunities of the past when the present enveloped them, pristine and waiting for them to make it their own?

“Come with me. I must rectify this grave error right now.”

Claude went, though not without his fair share of protesting. Lorenz politely refused to inform him that continuously objecting while still following him the short distance to the Tea House severely damaged the credibility of his claims.

“Enough of your prattle,” he scolded once they arrived, waving a hand to shoo Claude away. “Go and find a table while I order.”

It had been quite some time since they last took tea together, but Lorenz’s memory was not to be underestimated. He ordered a cup of chamomile for Claude, recalling the way he had offhandedly commented on the pleasurable aroma permeating their room one evening, and Seiros tea for himself.

“Don’t you know it’s improper to celebrate one’s birthday long after it’s already passed?” Claude raised an eyebrow at the cup set down before him. “Speaking of which, you never told me why you suddenly got so curious about that.”

“I simply realised that you know rather a lot more about me than I do you,” Lorenz said, stirring his drink absently. “Has that ever occurred to you before?”

“Can’t say it has,” Claude’s tone was light and casual. Cards close to his chest.

“Unfortunately, I do not share your neutrality, nor am I satisfied with such an unbalanced arrangement,” Lorenz looked him straight in the eye, solemn. “I am not exaggerating when I say that you have had quite the profound impact on my life, and yet if someone asked me to describe who Claude von Riegan truly is, I would not be able to.

“I would very much like for you to put your trust in me, just as I have with you.”

The words came straight from the heart, perhaps even deeper, and his tone was heavy to match. The very stars in his sky had collapsed and learned to shine again with new purpose thanks to the man before him, and yet what Lorenz offered was far more than a simple gesture of gratitude.

Claude worked his jaw, deep in concentration as though he could see right through Lorenz and to the depths of his soul. “This better not be another one of those debts you’re looking to repay.”

Lorenz scoffed, offended. “Certainly not. The times of debts and duties are long behind us now. I am asking because I wish for you to stop holding me at arm’s length. I am asking because you are my friend, Claude.”

Claude hummed a noncommittal sound, eyes down. “It’s refreshing to hear that,” was all he said before he went quiet, leaning forward on his elbows and inspecting his tea. “Chamomile, right? I think I love this one.”

* * *

Let it never be said that Lorenz Hellman Gloucester was not tenacious.

It had proven to be a great effort to draw even the most minute details out of Claude. A small victory was still a victory, but it was also a prelude to what was to come.

However, little changed as the sun rose and set with each new day.

Perhaps it had been foolish to allow Claude’s cryptic concession to set his expectations high, given how he still seemed reluctant to give anything away. Lorenz understood, of course, that such things take time and politely refrained from raising the issue further, though impatience crept up his spine as he awaited something impossible to predict.

It bothered Lorenz greatly, that he was unable to provide the patience that Claude had graciously given him when his life had torn itself open at the seams not long ago. But taking matters into his own hands was entirely out of the question and he was left with few other options besides.

So, he swallowed his pride and kept his thoughts to himself. 

Their conversations slowly began to feel different and Lorenz suspected that Claude was finally rewarding him for his understanding. Initially, he wasn’t sure why he thought as much; it was not as though their routine had changed in any revolutionary way. Claude still woke up before him and brewed coffee each morning, still walked to class with him, still spoke and acted and dressed as casually as ever, still distracted him from his homework in the evenings with whatever inane thing caught his interest.

But in time, his body language grew looser, his motions more fluid and less restrained, even while he wasted his energy on some irritating gesture or running wild like a child. His words became less double-edged, as though he could say something and wholeheartedly mean it without submerging part, or all, of the truth. Every word that left his mouth seemed to feel lighter, even though the subject matter was often still trivial or nonsensical or distinctly Claude-esque.

Actions speak louder than words, as they say.

Even his facial expressions seemed easier and more natural, as though he was suppressing his true feelings and innermost thoughts more and more infrequently, although his smiles still rarely reached his eyes. Perhaps, in due time, that would change too.

It was a slow growth and Lorenz knew he was only scratching the surface but he pressed on.

After all, unsolvable puzzles were not often solved so easily.

* * *

Lorenz had taken to visiting the dining hall with his fellow Deer each evening.

He had hesitated to do as much even when he started calling them his friends, suspecting that their table manners were less than exemplary. He had since confirmed this theory multiple times, but after Raphael had demonstrated unexpected wisdom about the benefits of dining with other people, he decided to broaden his horizons somewhat and take him up on his offer. If what he had said was true, perhaps he would be able to gather clues in the meantime.

Marianne continued to share his penchant for dining respectfully, taking small bites from small portions and refraining from disturbing those around her. The remaining Golden Deer, on the other hand, were unsurprisingly still incompetent in the ways of eating a meal like functioning members of society. Raphael talked with his mouth full. Leonie seemed to have a personal vendetta against cutlery. Hilda did not wash her dishes, instead preferring to abandon them in the sink and leave someone else to clean up her mess. Lysithea had no concept of how much whipped cream was too much. Ignatz was clumsy and wore his meals more often than he ate them.

Lorenz’s exasperation grew by the day until he was sure he had seen it all.

Then, one evening in particular, he heard a series of choked heaves.

He turned his head, startled, and was met with the sight of Claude laughing more vigorously than Lorenz had known a person was capable of. To his left, Hilda was faring similarly, as were Leonie and Raphael, yet Lorenz paid them no mind. Hearing the carefree cackling of the latter three was nothing unusual by now and while Claude was no stranger to loudly expressing his good cheer, he had never done it quite like this.

He coughed and wheezed, he wiped tears from his eyes, he seemed to catch his breath only to fall victim to another bout of hysterics loud enough for the entire dining hall to hear. It was nothing like Lorenz’s own quiet and polite chuckles or the inelegant guffaws Claude himself often let loose in other circumstances. He looked, and sounded, like an entirely different person when consumed by such high spirits and Lorenz found he couldn’t look away.

He hadn’t an idea what had been said by who that led to such a display, having been occupied by a much quieter and more sensible conversation with Ignatz, but it must have been sufficiently humorous for Claude to have entered the state he was currently in. Or, just as likely, something sufficiently ridiculous and childish.

Claude wheezed when he laughed.

An odd and thoroughly unexpected discovery, if the way Lorenz seemed frozen in place was any indication. He felt as though the image may shatter if he took his eyes off the uproarious Claude for even a second, that peace would instantly return to the table and Claude would never surprise him again.

Alas, all too quickly, the moment ended. Claude calmed himself and casually cleared his throat, clearly attempting to carry on with the conversation but only succeeding in pulling even more laughter from the table, now at his own expense.

Lorenz shook his head fondly at their antics, a smile tugging at his own lips. It seemed Raphael had been telling the truth after all. People were freer and more comfortable when sharing a meal with good company. He filed the tactic away for later use, as well as the bizarre and incredible spectacle he had witnessed.

If pushed far enough, Claude’s laughter had the potential to be far more entertaining and rewarding than any inducer Lorenz could name.

Hm.

* * *

At some point, it had gotten easier to tell the difference between a real smile and a fake smile.

Claude’s false smiles were always accompanied by movements of some sort. Running hands through his hair, folding his arms behind his head, shrugging exaggeratedly or tossing his head back as he laughed seemed to be the most common. Why this was, Lorenz didn’t know for certain, though he suspected such movements were to distract from the smile and any falsehoods it accidentally laid bare.

Genuine smiles, on the other hand, were coupled with no such gestures.

The smiles that Claude wore in the privacy of their room, when he simply looked up and grinned at Lorenz, wide and bright enough for his eyes to crinkle by the edges, were far more enjoyable, Lorenz found.

Claude’s eyes crinkled when he was the happiest. Sometimes they were obscured by his eyelashes or hair due to their height difference, but they all shared the easily-definable simplicity and sincerity that set them apart from their counterparts. His smiles had the tendency to be showy and infectious whether real or false, but there was something about the ones saved just for Lorenz that seemed more weightless. 

It was easy enough to tell the difference if one paid close enough attention, and Lorenz wondered how he had not noticed sooner.

Another thing that made him wonder was why Claude felt the need to fabricate so many of his smiles in the first place. However, as much as he wished to know, he ignored the urge to approach him about it, lest he undo all of their progress and ensure Claude would never again let his guard down around him.

In the meantime, he was content to chip away at Claude’s walls as his smiles became more and more frequent, more and more genuine.

It was around that time that Lorenz noticed that Claude’s smiles evoked new behaviour within him. His joy seemed more contagious, even when Lorenz did not share in it, or, more commonly, it was at his expense. Furthermore, he often found himself unable to look away whenever Claude was swept up in his joy, just as he had been when he discovered his wheezing habit. It was as though he was attempting to preserve the sight for himself before it was gone.

Normally, he wouldn’t mind, let alone take notice of, this change in behaviour and initially, he didn’t.

It wasn’t until a pleasant outing with Ferdinand and Constance did it strike him as odd.

Ferdinand was undoubtedly one of the most cheerful people Lorenz knew and he could often be seen beaming proudly as a result. It would not be an exaggeration to say that his friend resembled the sun when he smiled due to how easily he could light up a room.

And yet, Ferdinand’s smiles were not nearly as mesmerising as Claude’s. Lorenz treasured them, of course, just as he treasured Constance’s. They were his friends and it would be outrageous for him not to hold such tokens of their joy near and dear to his heart.

But something about them just felt noticeably, inexplicably different.

Perhaps it was because he had known Ferdinand for far longer than Claude. Perhaps Claude’s smiles were rarer, more fleeting, and as a result, more prized.

Or perhaps it was something else that he couldn’t put a name to.

* * *

“A question,” Lorenz began without looking up from the book that he wasn’t really reading.

“I’m all ears,” came Claude’s quick reply.

“After you disappeared without a trace last month—“

“You’re not gonna let that go, are you?”

“—you mentioned that stepping into your grandfather’s role is not ‘where your destiny lies’, correct?”

Lorenz heard a soft scuffling sound as Claude presumably sat up. “Sounds about right,” he said, voice neutral.

“Those words in particular have stuck with me,” Lorenz mused, still busying himself with his book so as not to reveal too much. “I am curious, where instead does your destiny lie?”

He paused, waiting with bated breath for an answer. The question was risky and he knew it. He did not mean to pry, but rather voice an innocent and genuine question that happened to come to him then and there.

“Where indeed,” Claude muttered after a similar pause. Lorenz could imagine him smiling deceptively.

The room fell quiet again. Lorenz didn’t move nor respond, giving Claude the space to answer the question in his own time.

“Have you ever noticed how strange the world is?” He said thoughtfully after a short time.

“That’s quite vague. Strange in what way?” Lorenz turned to look at him then. As expected, he had assumed his usual position of lying flat on his bed, arms resting behind his head, eyes trained on the ceiling.

“The world is so big…” Claude continued, his voice rich with something that Lorenz couldn’t place. “It’s full of people and nature and history and all these amazing things, but not all of us know what to do with this gift we’ve been given.”

Lorenz listened intently, unsure where Claude was heading with his tangent. Was this a roundabout way of confessing that he had no dreams, no clue where his destiny truly lie? He wondered but didn’t dare interrupt.

“Humans are afraid of what they don’t understand. There’s a lot that we all have in common, but just as much that sets us apart. Plenty of people treat others with contempt and disgust just because they’re different. Can you imagine? Everywhere I’ve seen, that sort of hate is inescapable. It never made sense to me, even when I was just a kid, and it never will.

“So I guess you could say my dream is putting a stop to all of that, and showing people that the world is more than they think it is.”

When he finished, Lorenz found himself at a loss for words. Everything, from Claude’s tone to the implicit personal experiences that shaped his perspective, even the words themselves, spoke volumes about his level of dedication to these goals, grandiose as they may be. He felt as though Claude was baring his heart, soul and everything he was to him. It was an honour but also caused a sense of warmth to flood him. He cleared his throat lowly, hurriedly composing himself.

“That’s very bold of you. How do you intend to bring such a dream to fruition, if I may ask?”

It was a loaded question. Such lofty ambitions would not be so easy to manifest into reality, Lorenz knew and Claude certainly did as well.

Claude grinned. “I don’t know. A lot of blood, sweat, and tears, probably.”

“I can’t say that I know either, but I do know this,” purple eyes met green and Claude perked up in intrigue. “Since it is your dream, I am certain that you will be able to bring it to life.”

Claude smiled then, _actually_ smiled, Lorenz noticed with a rush of that same warmth.

“That means more than words can express, Lorenz.”

* * *

Several days later, a quiet afternoon fell upon them.

Claude was away, perhaps out with his friends or attending to more dealings with his grandfather, and in his absence, Lorenz let his mind wander. In the serenity of the dorm, multiple facts seemed to register with him all at once.

Almost an entire month had passed since the Leicester Founding Day party and Claude’s subsequent disappearance. In that time, Father and Bernard had been awfully quiet, as had Mother. Exam season was steadily approaching and just beyond that lie winter break before the year would come to a close.

And most notably, it seemed Lorenz’s wish had come true and the puzzle that was Claude von Riegan was growing less unsolvable by the day.

Though it didn’t seem so, quite a lot had changed in the short time; so much so that Lorenz was almost having trouble keeping up. Perhaps he could repurpose their old board and use it to document his new observations in secret.

He smiled to himself at the thought, looking up at the object in question, only to be met with blank white.

The board had been cleared. Wiped clean of every single one of their old rules.

When did that happen?

Knowing himself to be innocent, Lorenz pulled his phone from his pocket to get to the bottom of this mystery.

> **Direct Message**   
>  **Wyvern 3 2:17 pm**
> 
> **Lorenz H. Gloucester:** Have you tampered with our board?
> 
> **claude von riegan:** recently? no
> 
> **claude von riegan:** three or four months ago? yes :)

Lorenz sighed in exasperation. He did not appreciate being played for a fool but even he had to admit it was quite funny that Claude’s prank had gone unnoticed for so long. Even more humorous was the fact that even if he could remember the set of rules, he would have no desire to replace them. Even the coffee machine, previously considered as much an enemy as Claude himself, seemed insignificant in hindsight.

There was no need for them anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me, writing almost 1k words of claude smiling and laughing:


	17. To Learn to Yearn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lorenz has a chance encounter with the unknown and forbidden at the eagerly-anticipated winter dance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AUTHOR’S NOTE: On 24th October 2020, two days after this chapter went up, TINR hit 100 comments!! Thank you so much to all of my loyal readers who made this possible, your support means the world to me 💜💛
> 
> Happy reading!

“Claude. Would you please stop that?”

“Stop what?”

“Whatever you’re doing. It’s terribly distracting.”

“Lorenz, I’m really not doing anything.”

Irritable, Lorenz spun in his chair to face him. Claude was sprawled on his beanbag, posture as dreadful as always and an open book resting in his lap. Lorenz frowned. Concentration was eluding him and if Claude wasn’t the cause, what was?

Claude quirked a brow in bemusement. “Maybe you should take the rest of the day off.”

Lorenz ignored him, turning back to his laptop. “You know I cannot allow myself to slack off.”

“I’d hardly call it ‘slacking off’ when exams are still four weeks away. You have plenty of time.”

“Maybe so, but that time will pass by in an instant.”

“True enough, I suppose,” Claude’s voice was carefree. Lorenz could imagine him shrugging. “That aside, you seem to be off your game, judging by all that grumbling and muttering under your breath.”

Of course he would notice something like that.

Lorenz’s cheeks reddened, a feeling that had become increasingly frequent recently. “I’ll thank you to stop observing me so closely when I am supposed to be concentrating.”

A snort of laughter. “Observing you— Lorenz, you’re really not as subtle as you think you are.”

Claude’s laughter taking the form of a short, breathy burst was far from uncommon these days, certainly far more habitual than his loud, open-mouthed cackles or wheezing. And yet, hearing it still provoked an uncomfortable tightening in Lorenz’s chest, like his heart was suddenly too big for his body. It was, annoyingly, another sensation that had become rather commonplace and Lorenz made a mental note to visit Manuela if the symptoms persisted. Falling ill so shortly before exams simply would not do.

For now though, he settled for frowning wordlessly at his screen and clicking to the next page of his notes with finality.

Perhaps he would relax the next day.

* * *

Lorenz did not relax the next day.

Nor did he the day after that, or the day after _that_.

Knowing better than to wait and see when his health and his studies were concerned, he found himself in the infirmary before the week’s end. He described in detail each symptom of his mysterious illness: spontaneous redness of the face, tightness in his chest, accelerated heart rate, lack of focus and bouts of mild anxiety or heightened awareness.

“I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about, dear,” Manuela said, poring over the notes she had taken while he spoke. “Exams are right around the corner, you know. Maybe you’ve just got the jitters.”

Lorenz thought. He couldn’t immediately rule out the possibility, as these symptoms had indeed coincided with exam season, though he did not often feel these ‘jitters’ so strongly. Regardless, Manuela was a physician and he was not, so he thanked her for her time and went on his way.

Fortunately, his symptoms seemed to die down just before exams began and kept themselves at bay for the entire week. He would have been convinced he had cured himself through sheer willpower alone if they didn’t immediately flare up the afternoon after his final exam.

Although, he pondered as he allowed himself to recover from the busy week, perhaps ‘fortunately’ was an exaggeration of sorts. Manuela had been right about one thing: the situation was nothing to fret over. Introspection had allowed him to attribute these strange symptoms to a situation he had been in numerous times. Like many others at Garreg Mach, Lorenz was a teenager as well and even he was not immune to infatuation. He had held such feelings for different young women around the academy before, even though nothing had ever come of it, and found comfort in the fact that he had discovered the cause of his unrest.

Now, all that was left was to discover the who.

The perfect opportunity presented itself one week later when Hilda all but dragged each and every member of the Golden Deer to a local bakery that she frequented. It wasn’t until everyone arrived and a large box of custom ordered frosted cupcakes was brought out did they learn it was also Marianne’s birthday.

Perhaps it was Marianne, Lorenz thought as he lifted his head to gaze at her. She was just as quiet and subdued as ever, though a small smile brightened her features as she nibbled on one of the cakes. Her enchanting beauty and gentle personality could captivate anyone.

Perhaps it was Hilda. Playful, flirtatious and well aware of her own copious charm. Though she could be lazy, once she set her sight on something, she took great care in seeing it through, just as she had for her friend’s birthday. She doubtless had many men swooning over her.

Perhaps it was Lysithea. His initial assessment of her had labeled her as cute and, though he would never say as much out loud lest he fall victim to her wrath, that statement still held. Even putting aside her soft features, the owner of one of the sharpest minds at Garreg Mach was a prime target for his adoration.

Perhaps it was Leonie. They had come quite far as friends, and differences that once set them apart and caused them to bicker like children now made up for the other’s shortcomings. She had become one of the most hardworking, down to earth and determined people he knew; beautiful in her own way and deserving of anyone’s affections.

Perhaps it was—

“Listen up, fellow Deer!” Claude suddenly slapped his hands down on the table, cutting off the thought. “The holidays are fast approaching and you know what that means.”

“The winter dance?” Ignatz asked.

“Sothmas Day! And more importantly, Sothmas Day feast!” Raphael added.

“Untitled Golden Deer Winter Celebration?” Hilda suggested with a wink.

“Bullseye!” Claude pointed a finger excitedly.

Lorenz suppressed a roll of his eyes. It was as though they’d rehearsed.

“Derdriu isn’t as nice in the winter as it is in summer,” Claude continued as if he hadn’t already planned everything without their knowledge, “so I’m thinking we pay a visit to Daphnel instead. It’s close to Faerghus, so I’ll bet snow fields and frozen lakes are in abundance. Perfect for snowball fights and ice skating!”

Lorenz wrinkled his nose. Being hit in the face with a snowball or collapsing onto a frozen lake and breaking his bones were some of the more unappealing things he could do while on break, yet he doubtless had little choice in the matter at this point. And he supposed ‘Untitled Golden Deer Summer Celebration’ had been quite the pleasant surprise once he had given it a chance.

“As lovely as that sounds,” he began, “I do believe you’re getting somewhat ahead of yourself.”

“Lorenz is right,” Lysithea gave a firm nod. “We still have several weeks of the semester left and the dance, both of which are far more important than your ridiculous ice skating adventures.”

Claude shook his head. “Look, I’d love to agree but unfortunately, it’s already been booked.”

“Wait, didn’t you say that last time?” Leonie asked, eyes narrowed. “How can you book a frozen lake? Or a not-frozen one, for that matter?”

Claude grinned. “That’s a secret. Now,” he clapped his hands together, “the 20th of the Ethereal moon is the big day. I look forward to seeing you all in Daphnel that day.”

He eyed Lorenz, an unabashed but meaningful look if he had ever seen one. Lorenz couldn’t tell why; he attended their last holiday gathering, did he not? Regardless, he wasn’t given much time to point out as much as everyone began to depart shortly after.

He pushed open the door of the bakery and was met with a harsh gust of wind. Now that the Red Wolf moon was upon them, cold winds howled daily and temperatures plummeted. Lorenz dressed to accommodate, of course, but had entirely forgotten about the weather once he set foot in the cozy bakery. The contrast between inside and out was so stark that even through his coat, Lorenz felt a chill down to his bones and shivered involuntarily.

“Cold, huh?” Claude turned to him, smiling in amusement. “I’ll have to dig out that space heater when we get back. For now, though, take my jacket.”

He shifted to remove the garment but Lorenz stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.

“Do not trouble yourself. Garreg Mach is only a short walk away and I would not want you to discomfort yourself on my account.”

“I’d rather be cold than listen to you complain the whole way back. Just take it, okay?”

Before Lorenz could protest further, Claude shrugged off his jacket and draped it over Lorenz’s shoulders. The difference was instantaneous; Lorenz felt the warm fleece of its hood on the back of his neck and pulled his arms through the sleeves before he could stop himself. It was small and tight on him, only covering half of his forearms and stopping above his hips, but he hugged it closer anyway, wrapping his arms around his middle. He took in the scent enveloping him; soothing, pleasing and familiar. It reminded him of the home and family he had build for himself at Garreg Mach, of all things comfortable and serene.

“Better?” Claude asked, looking up at him. There was a barely-noticeable red tinge to his cheeks from the frigid weather.

“Yes. Thank you,” Lorenz murmured. At some point during the exchange, his heart rate had picked up again and begun hammering against his ribcage harder than the wind beat against his body. A sense of contentedness overwhelmed him and he hid a smile in the jacket’s fleece when he recalled his earlier contemplation.

How curious that these feelings would flare up now, when no one else but Claude was around.

* * *

Garreg Mach’s winter dance was different from the parties that students often threw for a number of reasons, but nonetheless promised good cheer and boundless festivities for students and faculty alike.

At least, Lorenz thought as he adjusted his tie in his mirror, there wouldn’t be a drop of alcohol to be found or—Goddess forbid—more drinking games. The staff, most notably Seteth, did not allow it and watched problem students like a hawk for suspicious behaviour. Though this usually did little to hinder anyone’s enjoyment - the atmosphere was simply too cheerful. Students everywhere revelled in the opportunity to bid goodbye to another year by making memories celebrating with friends and dancing with lovers.

Although, it appeared that Lorenz would only be choosing from the first category.Thanks to his inability to pin down the target of his affections, he had held off from asking any of his female friends to the dance as his date. A terrible shame, since much of the excitement surrounding the festival stemmed from the simple act of asking or being asked there as a date, but alas.

Perhaps next year he will be given another chance.

Satisfied, he lowered the mirror and moved to retrieve his signature rose from his drawer, only to nearly jump out of his chair when the door was suddenly kicked open.

“Hey there, Mr Singles Night,” Claude sauntered inside with a wide grin, having returned from readying himself in the communal bathrooms. “I still can’t believe you of all people didn’t end up asking anyone to the dance. You sure you’re not coming down with anything?”

Lorenz turned to make some sort of counter-remark, only to stop dead in his tracks.

The man who had entered the room, made a joke at his expense and now leaned lazily against the doorframe was not his roommate at all, but rather someone entirely different. Or so it seemed, because Claude was almost unrecognisable.

His hair was no longer as unruly as if he had just woken up and had been combed back for once. Even his braid had been tucked behind his ear and the end result framed his face quite neatly. His attire was also similarly apt for a dance yet entirely unfamiliar on Claude. His suit was not as immaculately tailored or striking as Lorenz’s but was impressive all the same. His tan jacket and dress pants were form-fitting, highlighting his form much better than his usual baggy hoodies and sweatpants, and were complemented by a sleek black tie.

Lorenz swallowed.

Claude cleaned up rather nicely, as it turned out.

Suddenly aware that he was staring, Lorenz cleared his throat before Claude could become discomforted and comment.

“If I recall, you did not acquire a date either. Not that I need one to enjoy myself; I am sure it will be a splendid evening regardless. Now then, shall we be off?”

Inside the reception hall, many students dressed similarly dapperly milled about. In groups they talked, laughed, and danced as though their lives depended on it. Lorenz soon found himself doing much the same when he and Claude met up with the Golden Deer shortly after. Despite his high spirits, he felt annoyance prickle as he looked each of them over. Of course, they all looked dashing but as he admired the four women in particular, he felt… nothing.

His face didn’t burn when he noticed Hilda’s immodest dress. His heart didn’t race when he glimpsed Lysithea’s ladylike makeup. He didn’t stutter or lose his composure when Marianne’s sweet smile lit up her face. He didn’t even blink at how Leonie stood out from the rest by virtue of wearing a suit and looking just as different from her usual self as Claude did.

Lorenz huffed a sigh and tapped a foot on the floor impatiently. If these four beautiful ladies had not earned his attraction, then, by the Goddess, who had?

Before long, he distanced himself from the group under the guise that he had many more people to visit and eventually came across Ferdinand and Constance. Lorenz suppressed a disappointed shake of the head at his own narrow mind. If none of the Golden Deer women had caught his eye, and he was now very certain they hadn’t, then surely Constance had. She was simply the only other option.

But, against all odds, it seemed not even she was the culprit. She looked positively divine in her wine-red ballroom gown, blonde curls bouncing as she laughed merrily, but when he looked at her, Lorenz felt only the same feelings of kinship and platonic affection that he felt when he looked at Ferdinand and nothing more.

He was almost at his wit’s end. Who owned his heart, if not any of these five women who he frequently spent his time with and had developed lasting bonds with? It was most unlike him to lay eyes on a woman and be instantly smitten—he was not Sylvain, for Goddess’s sake—so it could not be someone whom he only had a passing relationship with, like Dorothea or Mercedes.

Who, then, did that leave?

Unable to answer the question, Lorenz left in a huff when it became apparent the din of the party would do no favours for his unexpectedly sullen mood. No one, let alone him, could have predicted that such a topic would worm its way inside his mind, take up refuge and refuse to leave, and utterly ruin any joy he may have felt on the typically-happy occasion. It was unfortunate indeed to miss out on the opportunity to enjoy himself more and show off his skills on the dance floor, but matters of the heart were not so easily swept aside.

He wasn’t quite aware of where his legs were taking him until a cool breeze wrapped around him and he looked out at the stunning view of the Goddess Tower balcony.

Of course he had come here. There existed a popular legend among the students that if two soulmates met at that very tower and basked together in the starlight, their days would be forever blessed with peace, prosperity and everlasting love. Lorenz wasn’t sure where such a legend had originated from or if he even believed in it, but the night of the dance in particular had many students buzzing with excitement and gathering in groups or pairs or singles in search of their special one.

Perhaps he might have liked to try it out, had he found someone suitable to do so with. Even if the legend was not true after all, sharing such a moment with one close to his heart would surely be worthwhile all on its own.

Alas, though he found himself alone, the stars still made for quite the sight and Lorenz briefly let go of his frustrations.

“There you are! We’ve been looking for you, you know. Everything okay?”

Or he had _thought_ he was alone, only for yet another wrench to be thrown into his plans.

Lorenz turned. “Apologies, Claude. After a while of excitement, I yearned for peace and quiet. That is all.”

Claude had removed his jacket, letting it hang over one shoulder, and rolled up the sleeves of his exposed undershirt to his elbows. Lorenz understood; rooms filled with so many people were bound to feel at least a little warm for the comfort of most. Even now, that all-encompassing heat had somehow chased him outside and threatened to overpower the fresh winter air.

“Hey, I get it. I’m the same way, really,” Claude approached the balcony by Lorenz’s side, leaning forward on it distractedly. He did not meet Lorenz’s curious eyes, instead gazing up at the sky, just as Lorenz had been moments before.

Silence fell over them, neither pleasant nor unpleasant. There was much Lorenz felt he should say, starting with explaining and apologising for his foul mood, but when he opened his mouth, no words came. In time, he silently gave up on the inner struggle. Perhaps there was nothing that needed to be said after all.

Claude eventually broke the silence without taking his eyes off the stars.

“Penny for your thoughts.”

Caught off guard, Lorenz voiced the first coherent thought he could grasp.

“It’s a nice night.”

“Heh,” Claude chuckled softly. “Yeah, you’re not wrong there. I always did love looking up at the stars.”

“Yes, I remember,” Lorenz smiled too, his earlier troubles melting away by the moment. “You once told me that you never tire of the night sky as seen in your homeland.”

“That’s true,” Claude nodded and Lorenz felt more than saw the motion. When had they gotten so close? “Never have, never will. The stars have always guided me, ever since I was a kid. They make me feel small, which makes me feel… human.”

Something in Claude’s tone was distinctly wistful but he didn’t seem intent on elaborating. Lorenz felt a rending sensation deep in his chest, left unsure of how to respond to such a thoughtful statement, setting instead for changing the subject.

“Are you aware of the legend?” He asked abruptly.

“The one that says two soulmates who meet here are blessed with eternal love? Yeah, I’m familiar,” Claude finally looked at him then, an unreadable expression on his face. His eyes sparkled in the darkness.

That look brought on new waves of heartache until Lorenz could stand to look at him no longer. He broke eye contact and spoke to the sky.

“I’ve had rather a lot on my mind tonight. I suppose a part of me came here seeking refuge, but I only succeeded in complicating matters further for myself. I am not certain if I believe in the legend or not but I must confess, the possibility of trying it out with somebody has always been somewhat appealing.”

His voice slowly trailed off until it was little more than a whisper. His hands trembled and he gripped the balcony railing to steady himself. He could have choked at his own uncharacteristic nervousness; it was alarmingly infrequent that words failed him, leaving him feeling so paralysed by nothing.

Claude smiled, wide and beaming. “Yeah? I know how you feel. Couldn’t hurt to try, right?” He hesitated, that smile promptly slipping from his face. He cleared his throat and tapped restlessly on the railing, his hand mere inches from Lorenz’s own. “So. What do you say?”

Without thinking, Lorenz nodded. “Yes, you and I—“

He stilled as those words settled in.

“You and—?”

His mind drew a blank as he took in Claude’s confused and increasingly fearful expression. Then, all at once, his breath left him as his heart and mind raced. They screamed and fought for dominance, louder and louder, until he couldn’t distinguish one’s demands from the other.

He and Claude.

_He and Claude._

They had gotten so close. So close that it couldn’t have been an accident, so close that Lorenz could feel Claude’s warmth. Warmth that was once his and his alone, synonymous with his bizarre, inexplicable affliction of late, now _theirs_. Too close, they were far too close. The tower was surely still crowded; what if someone saw them? Hordes of students and their prying eyes, baring straight into him and holding him still, examining him like he was some small, insignificant thing under a microscope, glaring at him while they whispered behind his back and spread foul, filthy lies of what they had witnessed. His image, his reputation, his dignity, plummeting like a fallen star before his very eyes.

Lorenz pulled away with a choked cough, the heat becoming unbearable. _Why was Claude so warm?_ He took a step back, then another.

“Erm… I do believe it’s time I turn in for the night.”

Then he left and swept back down the hall before Claude could interject.

When night shifted into morning, when Claude trudged into the room at some undefined hour, when his mind refused to quiet down, Lorenz did not sleep.

* * *

Claude.

It couldn’t possibly be Claude.

Under his nose, all this time.

Daring to hide in plain sight like the trickster he was.

He could not believe it.

He _would_ not believe it.

Claude was a dear friend.

A companion.

A confidant.

An ally.

A roommate.

Not a lover.

Not a tryst.

Not a secret.

Not something to take advantage of after all he had done for him.

His preferences did not even lean that way.

Claude was another male.

They were not compatible.

His heart beat only for the women around him.

Gorgeous and elegant.

Soft and gentle.

Not for he who taunted and teased him like it was what he was born to do.

Who could jump between serious and jovial as easily as flipping a switch.

Who was responsible for this disparity between his mind and soul.

Soulmates, blessed with eternal love.

Or so the legend stated.

Certainly it was false.

The contrary was simply impossible.

There was not a scrap of logical evidence to base it on.

It was merely a rumour conjured up by the students.

Claude would have to use his tricks on someone else.

Someone more gullible or reckless.

Someone with whom he could look danger dead in the eye.

And smile that infuriating smile of his.

The one that made his eyes crinkle and teeth flash.

The one that pained him to think about.

The one that reminded him of the memories they had made.

The one that was genuine.

Unlike the one he wore currently.

As their room lay bare.

And their limbs were weighed down by luggage.

And they locked the door.

They had not spoken a word of the previous night.

But that smile told Lorenz all he needed to know.

That it had not been a dream.

That it was real.

That it was dangerous.

That it should not have happened.

The false smile was gone now.

Lorenz didn’t miss it.

In its place was concern.

It didn’t feel any better.

Claude was loudly voicing his displeasure about Lorenz returning home.

Prattling on about ‘keeping in touch’.

Lorenz humoured him and agreed.

Said goodbye.

Claude waved and turned his back.

The sight could have torn him to pieces.

Body acting against mind had become little more than routine.

His heart squeezed.

His face flushed.

His palms sweat.

His voice wavered.

He admired someone else.

Someone nameless.

Faceless.

Unidentifiable.

But never before had he yearned the way he yearned when Claude left him behind.

Never before had he felt so abandoned than when he climbed into his car.

And set off for the long trip home.

While leaving behind his real home.

Never before had he wanted to reach out and hold.

Before Claude could slip through his fingers and vanish.

But he would not allow himself.

He would not believe the lies.

Perhaps the time away from each other would do them good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lorenz hellman "https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oWX8bFCKhG4" gloucester


	18. Paradise and Purgatory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lorenz foolishly expects the winter break to pass easier than summer did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: alcohol mention, vomiting, death mention, count gloucester generally being awful

Lorenz did not think about Claude.

It lasted for almost a day and he was almost proud of himself for his valiant efforts.

Then boredom struck.

Considering the circumstances, he was bound to run out of distractions before long. He cleaned his room and unpacked his belongings. He finished reading the book he was halfway through. He watered each and every flower and bush in the garden.

He had taken a sip of his third cup of tea when those efforts fell apart. The scent of Almyran pine needles - another one of Claude’s favourites, he had learned - permeated the room and the dull, hollow feeling in Lorenz’s chest grew until it throbbed like an open wound. He briefly considered phoning him before swiftly discarding the idea with a scowl. The trip to Daphnel was only a week away, and Lorenz was not some weak, lovesick fool who would give in after mere hours.

Not that these feelings were in any way related to love or lack thereof.

Nevertheless, he would hold on. It had been admittedly shortsighted of him to quickly exhaust all options for distracting himself, but any prayers he might have thought about uttering were answered when Iria burst into the room he was lounging in.

“My son!” She cried, scooping him into a warm embrace. “I’ve missed you dearly. How are you?”

Lorenz returned the gesture, less hesitantly than last time, and smiled to himself.

Perhaps time would pass faster now.

* * *

If Lorenz had thought the winds of the Verdant Rain moon at Garreg Mach were an annoyance, Daphnel in winter was another matter entirely. Due to the city’s close proximity to Faerghus and the famously frigid wasteland of Galatea, the park where the Golden Deer met was positively blanketed in snow.

He had ensured he was properly dressed for the occasion, if not somewhat overdressed, to avoid any more embarrassing jacket-sharing nonsense. That was quite possibly the last thing he needed. But, as he quickly found out when a snowball suddenly collided with the back of his head, his jacket, scarf and gloves ensemble did little to protect against the group of immature children he called his friends.

He turned, already crouching down to retaliate, and met Hilda’s sweet smile with a glare.

“Lorenz,” she tried, batting her eyes as though he could be dissuaded so easily. “You wouldn’t throw that at someone as small and delicate as me, would you?”

“Do not try your tricks on me,” he huffed, shaping the chilly weapon in his hands into a sphere. “That mischievous grin doesn’t help your credibility.”

He let the snowball fly and relished in the shocked squeal Hilda let out upon impact. She shivered, shook chunks of snow out of her hair and after regaining her bearings, charged at him with a murderous glint in her eye.

“Okay, you asked for it!”

The fight began in earnest then. Snowballs flew in all directions at breakneck speeds, the air filled with laughter and cries of alarm whenever someone was hit. Lorenz had to admit, there was a certain amount of thrill in their childish game. As it turned out, dodging snowballs that were almost invisible against a snow-covered field was quite the challenge.

Just as unexpectedly, the game was almost as tiring as it was challenging and Lorenz found himself winded before long. He puffed and panted, cheeks red and bits of frost and snow decorating his clothes in white spots. He spied Ignatz and Marianne building a snowman together a short distance from the chaos and made to withdraw from the battlefield to join them before a snowball suddenly pelted him in the ear.

He yelped, startled, and quickly spun in the direction of the assailant.

Claude grinned back at him devilishly. “Oops, sorry about that!”

Lorenz glared. A well-placed shot like that was no accident and they both knew it. He brushed the snow from the side of his face and picked up one final snowball, only to falter when he laid eyes on its target.

Claude, already primed to dodge the incoming attack, was visibly panting, eyes alight with excitement. His hair was covered in snow that contrasted sharply against the dark curls like a halo.

Lorenz’s stomach lurched and he turned, dropping his snowball to the ground.

“Enough of this nonsense.”

If Claude paused to watch his retreating back with a dejected expression, Lorenz didn’t know nor did he care.

“It’s becoming somewhat of a routine for us to be the first to tire of their antics, isn’t it?” He commented as he approached Ignatz and Marianne.

“Hi, Lorenz!” Ignatz greeted cheerfully. “I wouldn’t phrase it like that but I guess you’re not wrong. Building snowmen is more my forte than running around and tossing snow at people’s heads.”

“Me too. They look like they’re having fun but it’s much more peaceful here,” Marianne murmured, folding her mitten-clad hands close to her chest.

Lorenz could tell from the ruckus that the fight had continued as if he never left but looked over his shoulder to confirm it anyway. Leonie was ducking and weaving as if she was fighting a real battle, effortlessly dodging Raphael’s powerful but misaimed shots and swooping low to the ground to counter. Hilda said something that made Lysithea laugh, distracting her long enough for Claude to sneak up from behind, gently pluck her beanie from her head, place a snowball inside and set it back down all in the span of a few short seconds. Lysithea jumped, letting out a high pitched cry, and spun to launch the snowball she was already holding into Claude’s face at point-blank range, startling him into losing his balance and collapsing down onto his back. The remaining three Deer immediately proceeded to take advantage of this opportunity and pelt Claude with snow while he was vulnerable, laughing loudly all the while.

Shaking his head fondly, Lorenz turned back around and peered at the now-completed snowman. The pair had taken great care in crafting it and artfully decorated its ‘body’ and ‘head’ with rocks to imitate buttons and a smiling face. Two sticks protruded from the top of its head, somewhat resembling deer antlers, albeit mismatched ones. It was even wearing Ignatz’s scarf.

“Aren’t you cold?” Lorenz asked him, paling slightly at the thought of someone removing any part of their outfit in winter for such an asinine reason.

“Me? Oh, no, I’m fine,” he replied with a smile. “I actually quite like the cold. Marianne does as well.”

She nodded affirmatively, a small smile gracing her features. “That’s true. Do you like winter too, Lorenz?”

“Unfortunately not,” he shook his head. “I dislike both extreme heat and extreme cold, but if I had to choose one, I would prefer the heat.”

“Hilda’s the same way,” Marianne said, almost reassuringly.

“That’s understandable,” Ignatz added. “Leicester strikes quite a nice balance. Not as hot as Adrestia but not as cold as Faerghus either.”

“I believe Claude favours the heat as well,” the thought had barely finished forming before Lorenz opened his mouth and the words tumbled out. His calm smile twisted bitterly.

_Of course Claude favours heat. That certainly explains a lot, doesn’t it?_

Ignatz raised an eyebrow but decided not to comment. “Speaking of Claude, now that he’s practically a walking snowman himself, I don’t think it’ll be long before we get out of here and get back to the city. Let’s go see how the rest of them are doing, shall we?”

* * *

“Hey, Lysithea, want some cocoa with your marshmallows?”

“Mind your own business, Claude.”

“Don’t mind him. If you don’t like cocoa, we can always order you a babyccino instead.”

“Do you _want_ a scalding hot drink all over your face, Leonie?”

“Throw it on Claude, not me! He started it. Plus, he’s the one who needs warming up right now.”

“Hey, whoa! I prefer to drink my drinks, not wear them, thanks very much!”

After Claude, for some reason, declared himself the victor of their snowball war and Leonie almost called a rematch, Lorenz and Lysithea berated them both for their needless competitiveness and all but dragged them up and in the direction of the city. To Raphael’s delight, they stumbled upon a buffet soon after and instantly crammed themselves inside and into a booth. Against the frigid backdrop outside, the interior was undeniably inviting with bright reds and yellows adorning every surface to give the feel of a place that was packed with energy and cheer. Gold streamers and coloured lights lined the walls and ceilings in the spirit of Sothmas, while upbeat carols played from overhead, completing the festive atmosphere.

As humorous as the current topic of conversation was, Lorenz had not eaten since earlier that morning so he stood and approached the buffet. Saghert and cream sounded lovely; it was a personal favourite, sweet but not too sweet and perfect for re-energising himself.

“Hey, wait up!” Hilda’s voice called from behind him. She appeared by his side a moment later and threw a glance back at the booth where the Deer were still chattering amongst themselves. “So… what’s wrong with Claude?”

Lorenz coughed. “Quite a lot. I need you to be more specific.”

“Shut up,” she pouted and punched him in the shoulder lightly. “You can see it too, can’t you? He’s been acting funny all day.”

Lorenz followed her eyes, inspecting the man in question. To the untrained eye, Claude looked completely fine, his smile wide as he continued to torment Lysithea. But to Lorenz, and evidently Hilda too, that smile was a lie.

He hummed, feigning deep thought. Lingering memories of the Goddess Tower teased at his mind and he turned away, resuming his place in the line before Hilda could notice.

“Now that you mention it, he has been acting rather unlike himself. He seems… distracted.”

“Yes, exactly!” Hilda agreed, perhaps too loudly. “Oh, but you don’t know why either?”

“I’m afraid not,” Lorenz shook his head as earnestly as he could. “If something happened, he has neglected to tell me.”

Upon reaching the front of the line, he lifted the lid and cut himself a slice of the sweet cobbler. He wasn’t given a pass to exit the conversation, however, as Hilda led him to a frozen yogurt dispenser.

“Goddess, that sucks,” she groaned dramatically, filling her bowl with pink yogurt and piling chocolate sauce and sprinkles on top. “I was so sure you would know. None of us know him better than you do after all.”

“Is that true?” Lorenz asked, bewildered both by her claim and the monstrosity of a dessert she was helping herself to.

“Yeah, stupid,” she rolled her eyes at him. “Putting aside the fact that you’re literally roommates, it’s obvious that you two just sort of… click better than the rest of us.”

Panic struck, deep within his heart. They _clicked_ _better_? How much did she know? There was no way this was coincidental; she must have seen them at the tower, just as Lorenz had been afraid of, or perhaps Claude had confided to her after the fact, either searching for advice or simply sharing some gossip.

Something else wormed its way into his heart at that last thought and it took a moment for him to place it as guilt. No, Claude would never even entertain the latter option and for Lorenz to even consider as much was effectively a betrayal. A betrayal of their friendship, just like allowing this silly misunderstanding to drive a wedge between them. That’s precisely what the incident at the Goddess Tower had been - a misunderstanding. The proper course of action was not pretending it had never happened, but rather, speaking about it with Claude so they could put this incident behind them. The very thought of such a conversation made his chest tighten with nervousness but it had to be done. They were past letting the tension between them simmer until it boiled over; Lorenz owed it to Claude and how far they had come to communicate with him like an adult.

“I mean, Claude and I are still great friends and I was there to take him in after you basically kicked him out that time,” Hilda continued, oblivious to his inward debate, “but I still reckon you and him are closer than me and him. You know?”

“Yes, I do know,” Lorenz answered, not fully paying attention anymore. “I will speak with him once we part ways today.”

“Okay, cool!” Hilda pumped a fist gleefully. “Let me know what you find out, okay? I worry about him sometimes, always keeping everything bottled up.”

“Yes, as do I. I still have not been able to parse why he does that.”

“Me neither. He’s a hard guy to grasp, that’s for sure,” she shook her head, then smiled up at him. “You know, you really have come a long way since the beginning. Both of you have. He talks about you sometimes and it really sounds like you’ve come to mean a lot to him.”

Lorenz wasn’t quite sure what to say to that, mustering only an inelegant clearing of his throat before hastily suggesting that they return to the booth. The way Hilda’s lips quirked into a knowing smirk went unnoticed as he turned his back and set off without waiting for an answer.

No longer fearing any future interactions with Claude, Lorenz let the tension in his shoulders dissipate as the familiar sounds of gossip, laughter, teasing and all manner of relaxed conversation washed over him. This time, when Hilda inevitably brought out her phone for another group photo, likely a tradition in the making, he ensured he was not distracted and effortlessly smiled at the camera.

* * *

That night, Lorenz produced his phone before bed.

He paused as a memory of him in precisely this position during their last holiday break made itself known; only now, his and Claude’s roles were reversed. Remembering himself and the conversation he was about to have, he dialled the number before he could lose himself in reminiscing.

“What’s up, Lorenz?” Claude said, voice neutral.

Nerves from earlier took hold, and Lorenz was suddenly grateful they were not speaking face-to-face. “Good evening, Claude. I believe there is something we need to discuss. Namely, the winter dance.”

“Winter dance?” Claude repeated in confusion. “Can you be more specific? That night was pretty busy, you know.”

Lorenz suppressed a sigh. He should have known Claude wasn’t going to make this easy. Silently, he took a deep breath and let it out, willing himself to calm down. There was nothing to fear.

“I’m talking about the Goddess Tower.”

“Goddess Tower? I dunno, I was never up there. Did something happen?”

Lorenz stilled. Claude’s voice was entirely earnest and he almost believed him without argument, despite obviously knowing the statement to be a lie.

“What are you talking about? I’m certain you remember our conversation under the stars. I acted rather out of sorts and, to be completely honest, I believe it was all due to a misunderstanding. I simply wished to explain myself and clear the air.”

“Uh, no, I don’t remember that at all, but I’m willing to take your word for it. Cool?”

Suddenly, it clicked. Claude was employing the same tactic Lorenz had been until that afternoon: deny and ignore. “ _This never happened”_ , they might as well have said, shaking hands like a shady deal of the shadows.

He hesitated to answer. As long as Claude was being agreeable, Lorenz was getting what he wanted, but something about his compliancy was worrying.

Was pretending it never happened supposed to be so easy?

Was Claude supposed to be so apathetic about it?

Was Lorenz supposed to want to object and talk about what _really_ happened?

He sighed, conceding. “Very well, that is all. Goodnight, Claude.”

“Night, Lorenz.”

He hung up and ran a hand down his face in exhaustion. It was impossible to tell if that had gone well or not and he would likely be up until an absolutely obscene hour pondering.

Claude von Riegan, ever unfathomable.

* * *

Sothmas Day arrived soon after, and with it came a bountiful feast that many considered the highlight of the holiday season. Lorenz was far from gluttonous, especially when compared to those such as Raphael, but it was hard not to look forward to such a tradition.

Mother had been inhabiting the kitchen for most of the day, toiling away at preparing the incoming feast and it appeared that her efforts had paid off, judging by the heavenly smell that beckoned Lorenz down the stairs in the evening. In the maid’s and butler’s absence, he helped his mother set the table for the two of them without complaint.

After all, what was there to complain about? The situation with Claude had largely worked itself out and had been merrily pushed to the back of his mind in recent times. Father had made few appearances, only in fleeting glances as he left or arrived home from work, and they had not spoken once, let alone to discuss the Corporation. Normally, the lack of meaningful work to do would have left Lorenz feeling restless and impatient, but even he had to admit it was preferable to being worked to the bone.

Iria poked her head into the dining room. “Get one more set of those out, for your father.”

“Does he have time to be dining with us right now?” Lorenz asked but nonetheless obeyed, producing an additional plate and set of cutlery and arranging them neatly on the table.

She shrugged, emerging from the kitchen carrying a delicious-smelling tray covered in foil. “I didn’t ask him to take the day off.”

Lorenz said nothing more, pulling out his chair and waiting patiently. Mother hung up her apron and joined him at the table, bringing with her a bottle of red wine that was soon popped open and poured into two glasses.

“Tell me, my son, because I’ve been terribly worried,” she began, eyeing him conspiratorially. “How have you been faring lately?”

Lorenz began to swirl his glass, peering down into it thoughtfully. To anyone else, it would have been an exceedingly simple and ordinary question but to him, its true meaning was clear.

“I am doing much better these days,” he answered genuinely after a moment’s pause. “My friends have helped me out tremendously. I do not know what I would have done without them.”

“Hmm,” she hummed. “I am glad. That Claude seemed to really be looking out for you.”

“Not only Claude,” he objected, a bit too quickly, and took a small sip to calm himself. “I have Ferdinand, Constance and the remainder of the Golden Deer to thank as well,” she raised an eyebrow at the nickname that went ignored as he continued. “Although, you are correct that Claude did play a large part in bringing me to my senses. My life will never be the same again, thanks to his influence.”

Mother opened her mouth to reply but was cut off by the front door opening.

“I am home,” Father announced gruffly.

“Come and join us at the dining table, dear!” Mother’s voice was bright and bubbly, contrasting with the sudden dullness of her eyes. “We’ve been waiting for you.”

Father grunted wordlessly, hanging up his jacket on the coatrack and disappearing into the kitchen.

“Either way,” Mother said, quieter. “I’m glad that you had him there with you.”

“Whom are you talking about?” Father barked from inside the kitchen.

Mother stilled, eyes going wide and lips parting. Lorenz mirrored her.

“Nobody, dear. Just Lorenz’s roommate at Garreg Mach,” she called back after a brief pause. She began peeling back the foil from the tray she had set down, revealing roasted pheasant and vegetables. They looked and smelled divine, cooked to perfection, but Lorenz felt significantly less hungry than he had been minutes ago.

Father emerged from the kitchen, a glass of wine of his own in hand, and seated himself at the head of the table. “Ah, yes, the Riegan boy.”

The urge to frown at him for inserting himself into the conversation was overridden by concern.

“How do you know his surname?” Lorenz ventured hesitantly.

Father did not meet his eyes, more interested in heaping portions of food onto his plate. “I learned from Bernard. A loud one, he is.”

Lorenz nearly choked on his bite; the first one he had taken, which didn’t bode well for the rest of the night. Concern grew to dread as he remembered a certain incident in the limousine and it was all he took to downplay his reaction as Father continued his blathering.

“A terrible shame that you were forced to end up sharing a living space with one such as him, but alas. It seems you’ve made the best of a bad situation.”

Indignant and enraged, Lorenz bit down hard on his lip until it stung, tightly grasping his utensils in both hands. He still had nothing to say; not daring to refute his father’s outrageous claims but incapable, in every sense of the word, of agreeing with them. He wondered what Claude would do, what he would say if he was there and gritted his teeth to keep himself from impulsively slamming his cutlery down on the table and storming out of the room.

“I used to work with a von Riegan,” Father stated, either unknowing or uncaring of the dark atmosphere his presence had created, or just enjoying the sound of his own voice more than usual. “He was a conniving, disrespectful, incompetent man. I would nary be surprised if this _Claude_ was much the same.”

It was difficult to tell what leapt out at Lorenz most of that statement; the array of insults, the implication that Claude in any way fit that description, the feeling that that description was entirely untrue. He felt a chill run down his spine as he realised that no, they weren’t what unsettled him the most; the use of past tense did.

“What happened to him?” He asked, his voice a low tremor.

Father chewed and swallowed contemplatively. “He was fired three years ago after crossing me one too many times.”

Lorenz swallowed his gasp with a gulp of wine. He noticed belatedly that he had hardly touched his food and continued to laboriously force it down by the mouthful. Despite the food somehow having lost all of its taste, he would not allow himself to waste it after all the time and effort Iria had spent cooking. It was not her fault that he had lost his appetite.

A heavy silence settled over the table, broken infrequently by Father and Mother engaging in the sort of idle small talk that neither were interested in but still participated in for reasons unknown. Filling the silence, Lorenz assumed, though he made no attempt to do so himself. Once all three plates and all three glasses were empty, Mother stood to fetch dessert from the kitchen but Lorenz, unable to eat even one more bite, excused himself with a hasty apology. Mother understood, her eyes warm and sympathetic as she urged him to help himself to leftovers later.

As soon as he was out of sight, his walk escalated into a jog and then a run as the eerie panic that came with knowing something was terribly wrong chased him and licked at his heels. He collapsed into his room and locked the door behind him, seizing his phone from where it rested on his bed and thumbing open his contacts with clumsy, clammy hands.

Claude answered after the fourth ring. “Hey, Lorenz, how’s it going?”

“Hello, Claude _,”_ his tone was foreign to him; small, uncertain, fearful and slightly breathless. “Are you able to meet up in Derdriu tomorrow?”

“I guess so, but why on such short notice? And what’s wrong with your voice? Is everything okay?” All too soon, concern flooded Claude’s voice; concern that likely would not leave quickly.

“I— Well, yes. I simply… wished to discuss something important with you.”

“Can’t you just tell me now?”

Lorenz could picture Claude raising his eyebrow in bemusement, and shook his head before remembering they couldn’t see each other. Pained, his eyes fell shut. “I can’t— Over the phone would be inappropriate. I need to be able to see your face.”

“Uh… okay,” Claude sounded conflicted and unsure, clearly withholding many more questions. “I guess I’ll see you in Derdriu then.”

Lorenz wouldn’t have been able to hold back the sigh of relief that tore itself from his lungs even if he’d tried.

* * *

The next day, Claude arrived at the café they had selected and made a beeline for Lorenz’s table. He took one look at Lorenz, curled in on himself pathetically, and leaned forward on the table, brows furrowed in concern.

“Okay, you’re starting to freak me out. Tell me what’s wrong, right now.”

Lorenz hesitated, weakly looking up at him through tired eyes. Father hadn’t given him a name but a quick search through company records had revealed all he needed to know. After obtaining the bare minimum of information, he had torn his eyes away, intent on hearing the truth from someone more credible than his father.

He took a deep breath. _Now or never._

“Godfrey von Riegan.”

Claude’s eyes widened almost imperceptibly, his mouth silently opening and closing before he replied.

“What about him?”

The calmness of his reaction did nothing to ease Lorenz’s fears, rather it was a terrible omen of what was to come.

“Father told me last night that he once worked with a man of that name. I simply… wished to know more about him, if I may,” he explained.

For a moment, Claude remained entirely still. Then, he frowned, eyes darkening and sliding down to the table between them.

“Godfrey von Riegan was my uncle.”

Lorenz’s stomach dropped. “‘Was’?”

“Yeah. Was. He died three years ago.”

_Three years ago…_

The timeframe added up. Preemptively, Lorenz began subtly shaking his head to himself in disbelief, lips parted from growing terror. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

Claude shrugged, the gesture far too casual for Lorenz’s comfort. “It’s fine,” he said, despite his pinched brow, averted eyes and subdued frown clearly indicating that it was _not_ fine. “I never really knew the guy.”

Absently, Lorenz ran his hands along his thighs before belatedly realising that it was because his palms were sweating. He paused, taking a sip of water to refresh himself and tried not to choke as he suddenly felt like all the air was being squeezed out of his lungs.

He ventured a risky question, out of desperation over the desire to pry.

“Could you… tell me more about him?” Claude looked up, surprised, and he hurried to clarify. “I mean, that is to say, only if you are comfortable with divulging such details, of course.”

“No, it’s… fine,” Claude repeated. Lorenz deeply wished he would stop using that word. “Most of what I know about him came from my grandfather or the death report. He died on the job, working as a high-ranking supervisor for a technology company. One day three years ago, he informed his boss of some faulty machinery that could cause a major accident if it gave out. But his boss, being a despicable, greedy bastard, refused to pay for the repairs.”

Lorenz listened without interruption, breath held and heart hammering painfully against his ribs.

“So, naturally, the machinery gave up one day. Two workers who were none the wiser were killed, as well as my uncle when he tried to step in and help them.”

When he finished, Lorenz let out the breath he had been holding in a quiet burst. Father’s words echoed in his ears, the veiled threat that von Riegan had been fired after ‘crossing him one too many times’ taking on a much darker meaning. Cold dread ran down his spine, sunk to the bottom of his heart, pulsed raw through his limbs as the unthinkable, paralysing and nightmarish, began to rear its ugly head from the depths of his mind yet again.

But he would not run, not before all of his questions were answered.

“That’s rather grisly,” he forced out through laboured, uneven breathing. “For whom did he work? I shudder to imagine the sort of corrupt workplace that would allow such negligence to occur within its walls.”

Claude met his eyes, reluctant, resigned and looking for all the world like there was nothing he wanted to do less than say his next few words.

“He worked for the Gloucester Corporation.”

He could barely finish the sentence before Lorenz pushed himself up from the table and started towards the restrooms, picking up speed as his stomach roiled and churned. He all but collapsed into the nearest available stall, knees thudding painfully on the tiles, before bringing up his lunch between breathless coughs and sputters. He heard a door swing open as Claude followed him inside, concerned, but he sounded miles away.

“Oh, jeez. You okay?” His hesitant voice floated up from behind.

“In what world would I _possibly_ be okay?” Lorenz despaired through ragged gasps. “After everything I have learned about my father, _now_ I learn that he is also a—“

He couldn’t bring himself to say it aloud. A murderer. Father was a _murderer_. Three people were dead as a direct result of his inaction, his irresponsibility, his carelessness, his utter disregard for human life. And he had the spine to continue on as if nothing had happened.

Lorenz winced as another cramp lanced through him and he retched into the bowl again.

“Oh, Gods. I’m gonna get you some water. Don’t go anywhere, okay?” Claude’s voice, slightly frantic, receded into the background and disappeared.

Alone, Lorenz groaned in pain and braced his arms around his midsection.

It wasn’t okay, it wasn’t fine. None of it was fine. The year had birthed many revelations and just when he had thought it was all over, this happens. He had been willing to leave well enough alone when the truth about Father came to light, playing along, as it were, but _this_? How could he even begin to accept something so horrific?

It was undeniable now; Father was a monster.

A monster who had taken the lives of three without remorse. Two employees who had been simply doing their jobs, blissfully unaware that their lives were about to be snatched away in the blink of an eye. One honourable man who sacrificed everything attempting to save them and also happened to have been a relative of Claude, the one who had come to mean the most to him, to boot. And Claude had known all this time.

With one more choked heave, Lorenz finally sat back, leaning heavily against the stall’s wall. As quickly as his energy drained away, so too did the last few lingering scraps of loyalty he hadn’t even known he still held for Father. Whatever happened, whatever he did, wherever he went, it would be without the aid or guidance or approval of that fiend. No longer would he stand idle, regardless of what Mother _or_ Father said.

Exhausted, his eyes slid shut. He had regained his breathing but his throat still burned with bile. He grimaced, revolted and pitiful.

What an unimaginably cruel twist of fate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter. HOO BOY, THIS CHAPTER. This chapter, more specifically the dinner part and the big talk with Claude, has been in development since literally chapter 1 and 2. I always felt it was a missed opportunity that Lorenz never learned the full extent of his father's horrible-ness in the game and one of my goals since the very beginning was to make up for that. And, well, here it is. I hope you enjoyed it 💜


	19. Chaos Couldn't Keep Us Apart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In desperate need of a break, Lorenz counts down the final days of the year with the Golden Deer by his side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 💜💛🔥👀
> 
> tw: alcohol, very very very light dubcon

> **Group: FEAR THE DEER**  
>  **Ethereal 27 9:07 am**
> 
> **Lorenz H. Gloucester:** There has been a change of plans.
> 
> **Leonie Pinelli!:** ?
> 
> **RAPHAEL KIRSTWN:** what
> 
> **hilda goneril~:** :eyes:
> 
> **Ignatz Victor:** Is everything okay?
> 
> **Lorenz H. Gloucester:** I apologise for springing this on you out of the blue. If possible, I would like to meet all of you here.
> 
> **Lysithea von Ordelia:** ‘Out of the blue’ is right. You know you’re no better than Claude with your last minute invitations, right?
> 
> **marianne von edmund:** a holiday home?
> 
> **Lorenz H. Gloucester:** Yes, I have reserved it. If any of you are able to drop by for a short time, I would very much appreciate it but I understand if you are not.

Time passed with no answer and Lorenz began to lose hope. Then, his phone chimed once.

> **claude von riegan:** we’ll be there.

* * *

Lorenz peered around the holiday home, assessing his living space for the next six weeks.

It was about as welcoming as your average modern holiday home was, he supposed.As advertised, it was a decently large and peacefully secluded space with two bedrooms and two bathrooms upstairs, very minimalist with little in the way of trinkets or decorations, barring several scenery paintings hanging on the walls or sets of candles occupying the odd end table.

Unscented and therefore inferior, he noticed with a frown.

Furthermore, the decor was exceedingly monochrome. He clicked his tongue at the observation; he anticipated a few short hours at most before company arrived and chaos broke loose, catching any and all white furniture in the crossfire. He would simply have to keep a closer eye on them than usual.

Investigating upstairs, he came across the master bedroom and set his luggage down on the king-sized bed. The sight was slightly worrying, as were the twin beds in the next room over, but each couch downstairs was large enough for two. Knowing the Golden Deer, they would stay until physically kicked out, but at least there would be no sharing of beds.

A quick search of the fridge and surrounding cupboards proved fruitless; they were empty, except for certain complimentary items such as bottled water and sweeteners. A quick trip to the supermarket was in order, and it was lucky that he had passed one on the way.

He returned an hour later, carrying three grocery bags. The first was full of sweets, potato chips, soft drinks and other sugary nonsense that probably wouldn’t last two days, the second held an array of considerably more nutritious food and drink, as well as necessary things like milk and bread, and the third contained an assortment of personal items such as tea and his preferred brand of shampoo to help him settle in.

It felt strange to purchase such unhealthy snacks and he nearly decided against it, but if there was one thing he was sure of, it was that he was an excellent host. Pleasing his guests required catering to their tastes and if an extra-large tub of Chocolate Cookies N’ Cream Dream ice cream didn’t please them, nothing would.

A sudden ring of the doorbell surprised him and he nearly dropped the carton of eggs he was stocking into the fridge.

_Already?_

“Hello!” Hilda greeted cheerfully at the door.

“Thank you for inviting us,” Marianne murmured, considerably less cheerful.

He should have expected these two to carpool together and be among the first to arrive. If he remembered correctly, the abode he had chosen was rather close to where Marianne lived, which, incidentally, was almost as far away from the estate as he could get without leaving the country.

“Thank you for making your way here,” Lorenz said graciously, noticing the luggage both had in tow. “Please, allow me to— Ngh!” He grunted in surprise when Hilda unceremoniously slung her twin duffel bags onto his shoulders. “Forgive me, but what in the world is in there?”

Hilda took mercy, removing something heavy from one of the bags and considerably lighting the load. “Just a little something to liven up the week,” she said, brandishing two six-packs of something likely sugary and alcoholic. She laid her drinks down on the kitchen island and skipped back out the front door.

“Week?” Lorenz repeated.

“Hilda thought having a New Year’s party would be a nice idea,” Marianne clarified, looking back in the direction her friend left, absently fiddling with the tassels on her scarf. “I’m sorry… We should have asked you first.”

Lorenz nodded, smiling at her reassuringly. It was a wonderful idea; one that he would have been open to suggesting himself if he hadn’t been so distracted in recent times.

“Whoo! That’s the last of it!” Hilda crowed from the entranceway before he could answer. She trotted past them, carrying two pillows and two rolled-up sleeping bags, which were then tossed onto the nearest couch to be rolled out later.

“Aren’t you interested in what the upstairs bedrooms are like? I was certain they would be claimed in an instant,” Lorenz asked in confusion, gesturing to the stairs nearby.

“I don’t mind,” Marianne approached the couch, sitting down next to Hilda and hugging her deep blue pillow to her chest. “You and Claude should have them. It’s thanks to both of you that we’re here after all.”

“That’s a sweet idea, but I’ll do you one better,” Hilda waggled her brows at him. “The boys can take one room while us girls have the other. How about it? You and Claude can share the bed, I’ll be safely away from all the snoring and drooling and sleep-kicking. It’s perfect!”

Lorenz let out a series of wordless sputters, cheeks flushing as if he’d been badly sunburned. “I don’t— You— Absolutely not. Just _what_ are you insinuating?”

Marianne covered her mouth with a hand, eyes wide while Hilda merely batted her lashes innocently.

“What’s the big deal? You already share a room; sharing a bed’s practically the same thing.”

“Hilda, don’t embarrass him…”

“Look, I’m sorry, but he’s gotta know. Better he hears it from us than Lysithea or Leonie, right?”

“I guess so… Just be gentle, okay?"

Lorenz took a seat adjacent to the two girls. His incredulous gaze darted between them as they gossiped like he wasn’t even there. Finally, Hilda met his eyes and smiled sweetly.

“Lorenz, sweetie. I hate to break it to you, but you are _way_ more obvious about this little crush than you think you are. I mean, do you _know_ how often you just, like, admire him with this stupid, dreamy expression on your face when we’re all hanging out?”

“I do not _admire_ —” Lorenz huffed, thoroughly unappreciative of the spotlight currently shining on him. “Marianne, won’t you please silence her outlandish claims?”

“It’s true,” she nodded timidly, averting her eyes. “You talk about him a lot, too.”

“See? I know my stuff, Lorenz,” Hilda leaned forward, hands cupping her cheeks and eyes sparkling with rapt interest. “So, when did it start? Are you gonna tell him? You _have_ to tell him!”

“Oh, for Goddess’s sake…” a hand kneaded at his temple, though where he would usually feel annoyed or offended at his friend’s troublemaking, only exasperation lay. How curious. “I don’t have time for this. I need to continue setting up for everyone else.”

As if the universe itself was taking mercy, the doorbell sounded again. Thankful for the distraction, Lorenz immediately stood to answer it, but a voice calling out from the entranceway halted him.

“Hello? Anyone home?” Claude, as always, possessed the uncanny ability to arrive on the scene at precisely the _worst_ time. “You know, you really shouldn’t just leave the door unlocked, whoever did that.”

Frozen in place, Lorenz risked a chance glare over his shoulder at Hilda and was met with an overjoyed grin and a thumbs up. He scoffed and promptly left the room.

“Claude! Welcome.”

Claude, having wandered inside aimlessly, looking positively lost, broke out into a wide smile of relief. Lorenz ignored the tiny pulse in his heart and the way he instinctively did the same.

“Hey, good to see you!” Claude moved in to do something, clap Lorenz on the back perhaps, before remembering his arms were full of luggage. “Uh. Got somewhere I can put these down?"

“Of course. Follow me upstairs.”

Per Marianne’s suggestion, Lorenz passed the master bedroom and led Claude to the spare room. Claude set down his gear with a grunt and looked the room up and down, considering.

“So. Nice place you picked out, huh?” He commented. “You sure you’re okay with staying here the rest of the break?”

“Please,” Lorenz frowned, looking down at the carpet. “Anywhere is better than the estate.”

“Maybe so, but in all fairness, this is a big and sudden change to make to your living situation,” Claude pointed out, his tone serious.

A deep sigh wrenched itself from Lorenz’s lungs. “I need some time to figure out what to do and I will snap if I spend another minute in that house. But I will not run, not anymore. Mark my words, I _will_ put an end to his reign of tyranny.”

“Good. You’ll make it out of this, I know it.”

Lorenz looked up to meet Claude’s eyes, unsure how to respond, and instantly wished he hadn’t.

His eyes were, in a word, stormy. Claude was always concerned for him, so concerned that Lorenz didn’t know how he could possibly express his gratitude in words. His heart ached, rippling and stirring like the waves of the ocean, and he wanted to reach out and touch and feel Claude’s presence; warm and safe, familiar and faithful, reassuring and encouraging.

But he wouldn’t, because it wasn’t Claude.

It couldn’t be Claude.

Although…

What was the harm if it _was_ Claude?

From the beginning, Lorenz’s life had been preconceived; grow up, lead the Corporation, marry a worthy woman, produce an heir. Father had been the one to instil such values into him when he was young and impressionable. But Father was not around, nor was he entitled to know the intricacies of his son’s life any longer. Claude had done far more for him in a single day than Father had in his entire life, all out of the kindness of his heart and if that didn’t mark Claude as the senseless, arbitrarily-set definition of ‘worthy’, what did?

Claude knew him like no other. Claude looked out for him, trusted him, smiled with him and awakened new possibilities within him. Without him, Lorenz would not be where he was now, teetering on the edge of the precarious peak he found himself on, head in the clouds and breeze tousling his hair.

He would not have found the courage to break through the lies and live for himself.

Yes, perhaps it was Claude after all.

* * *

“No,” Lysithea shook her head adamantly. “Absolutely not. I won’t allow it.”

“Why, what’s wrong?” Claude looked blankly between her and the TV screen.

“What’s wrong is… it’s still the festive season, of course! Who watches horror movies on the heels of Sothmas?”

Lorenz looked up, reading the movie’s description with a suspicious eye. Over the course of the past couple of hours, the remaining Deer trickled in one by one until darkness fell and it was decided that their first order of business was another movie night. In contrast to the short time it had taken to find the TV’s movie selection, they had been arguing over what to watch for nearly half an hour.

Leonie recommended an action movie, Raphael enjoyed comedies, Ignatz counted off a list of his favourite science fictions, Marianne suggested a fantasy tale. Lorenz himself put forward a touching and award-winning romance only to be shut down by Hilda advocating for a drama she had seen recently. Claude, ignoring every one of them, had instead brought up a horror movie to Lysithea’s obvious chagrin.

Twenty minutes later, the bickering ended when everyone finally came to an agreement and chose an animated family fantasy. Blankets covered the couches where the Deer piled together, snacks and soft drinks were passed around, two pizzas were served from the oven and everyone comfortably settled in for a long night. Despite himself, Lorenz quickly lost interest in the movie, partly due to not recognising the name, studio or any of the actors and partly due to never being terribly fond of animated movies. Almost of their own accord, his eyes wandered away from the screen and around the room to his companions.

Hilda claimed most of one couch, lying down with her arms folded behind her head and her legs strewn across a slouching Claude’s lap. A large bowl of popcorn rested between them, growing increasingly empty by the minute. Raphael, Ignatz and Lysithea took up another couch, the latter two comically small in comparison to the former as they shrunk into the warmth of the blanket enveloping them. Leonie, Marianne and Lorenz himself occupied the third couch, the only group that hadn’t become a tangled mess of limbs and was only occasionally extending an arm to grab a handful of snacks.

They fell silent for a long while, attention captured by the movie, and in the moment of peace, the domesticity of the situation was not lost on Lorenz. Hilda’s words in the buffet returned to him and he smiled, finally able to agree with her; they truly had come a long way. Each and every one of them had grown, but himself and Claude in particular… yes, he understood what she meant now.

“Lorenz, what are you smiling at?” Lysithea suddenly asked, annoyed. “Her little sister’s gone missing and the mood’s become tense, are you paying attention at all?”

He blinked, torn out of his reverie. “Oh, was I smiling? My apologies, I did not notice.”

“You know, Lysithea, for someone who said animated movies are for children, you sure have gotten awfully invested,” Claude came to his defence, smirking.

Lysithea turned red, promptly quieting herself, and nothing more was said on the matter.

How odd for her to have noticed such a thing, Lorenz thought. Hilda’s words from the previous week gave rise to her words from earlier that day; her and Marianne needling him about how transparent he supposedly was. Perhaps she had been telling the truth after all, if he had begun conspicuously grinning to himself, unaware of how foolish he looked.

It was not often that his own thoughts or actions gave him pause, but he found himself reflecting on his every move from weeks and months past. The situation was still foreign and daunting to him; he had never before felt this way towards _anyone_ , let alone another man, and his innermost mind still sought to fruitlessly deny and explain it away. The vast majority, on the other hand, knew that such doubts were the result of Father poisoning his subconscious mind and all reservations were instantly swept aside. Lorenz would not berate himself for developing feelings for one who had saved him when he didn’t even know he needed to be saved.

In sharp contrast to his mind remaining sound and stable in assessing the situation, his heart was inscrutable. Falling for Claude felt entirely natural after everything Lorenz had overcome with his help, but the sense that he was lost and out of his depth overwhelmed him simultaneously. Such discord was further exacerbated by his mind whispering, ‘now what?’

Now what indeed.

The choice that immediately jumped out at him was to simply wait for it to pass. The idea was disappointing, anticlimactic and caused his chest to ache hollowly but the pros outweighed the cons. Silencing the calls of his heart was regrettable indeed, but tarnishing the bond they shared by overstepping his boundaries was not even worth considering. Thus, it seemed his only option was to swallow his feelings down until they eventually dissipated.

It was nothing he hadn’t done before. How hard could it be?

The finality of his thoughts complemented the rolling of the film’s credits, and Lorenz realised with a start that he had tuned out the entire thing in favour of his inner ramblings.

“Uh-oh, we got a man down,” Leonie noticed with a smile amongst the Deer’s comments on the movie and suggestions on what to cue up next.

Everyone turned their heads towards Ignatz, fast asleep against his armrest, mussed hair and the rims of his glasses barely peeking out from the top of his blanket.

“Already? It’s only 8:30,” Lysithea leered at him, shaking her head in disappointment.

“Did anyone bring a marker?” Hilda asked, grinning manically.

“Leave him be, Hilda,” Marianne gave her a look akin to a disapproving mother. “Let’s move on to the next movie.”

“Great idea! But first, more nachos!” Raphael removed himself from the pile of blankets, careful not to disturb his sleeping friend, and trotted out of the room.

Lorenz hummed. “I believe the rule of movie nights is to keep going until everyone is either asleep or bored. That is what happened last time, in any case.”

“Bingo,” Claude smiled. “There’s no way we’re calling it quits until _at least_ midnight. If the rest of you start to get sleepy, we can fire up a horror movie and that’ll fix you up quick. Isn’t that right, Lysithea?”

“Claude, I _will_ throttle you.”

* * *

The rest of the night passed in such a way that Lorenz woke in the master bedroom the next morning feeling unrested. He sat up, rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, and noticed blearily that the room was free of the belongings that had been strewn around by the other Deer men. What’s more, the house was much quieter than expected, given the eight teenagers supposedly inhabiting it.

After a nice, hot shower, he wrapped himself in a plush bathrobe and padded downstairs to investigate. The living room, he noticed, was in a much cleaner state than it had been left in but no people were to be found. He entered the kitchen and almost sighed with relief when he saw Marianne seated at the breakfast bar, nibbling from a bowl of fruit salad. She wore a bathrobe identical to his own and her hair, normally tied in an intricate bun, was damp and had been left to flow down her shoulders.

“Good day, Marianne,” he greeted, ambling to the kettle to boil some tea. “Have you seen the others?”

“Most of them went home for a few days,” she explained. “Claude and Hilda went to go pick up some things for the party but said they’ll be staying here when they get back.”

Lorenz understood the former sentiment. Sharing a house with a large group of friends was certainly interesting in concept and their movie night had been enjoyable, but he hadn’t been looking forward to seeing how quickly the novelty would wear off. 

“I hope you don’t mind me staying here until then too,” Marianne continued, her tone solemn. “My home may be close by but… well… my adoptive father’s there and—“

Something resonated within him then and he turned, seeing her head bowed and eyes closed as though she was waiting for him to lambast her. Though Marianne had made admirable progress in coming out of her shell and improving her self-esteem, there were still times when she reverted back to the gloomy, withdrawn defeatist he met eight months ago.

“Stay as long as you like. There is nothing to fear here,” he assured her, smiling gently.

Her head rose, eyes flying open, and she beamed at him, equal parts disbelieving and joyful. 

“You’re very kind, Lorenz. Hilda was right about you.”

He looked up in the midst of pouring his tea and was met with the distinct look of a person who had accidentally said too much. He opened his mouth to question her, brow raised in intrigue, but paused when he heard the door open. Marianne ducked her head, shifting her attention back to her meal.

“We’re back!” Hilda sang out, strolling into the kitchen without looking up from her phone. “Did ya miss us?”

“Everything is ready! Now, all we have to do is wait,” Claude followed behind and placed a paper bag onto the breakfast bar.

“Good day, Claude. What is that you have there?” Lorenz gestured to the bag, taped shut to prevent any peeking.

“That’s for me to know and you to find out,” Claude’s eyes sparkled and he grinned mischievously. Normally, that look told Lorenz he was up to something and prompted immediate exasperation and concern, but he found himself forcing back an amused smile to match, heart squeezing in his chest.

“Come now, I thought we were past keeping secrets,” the hypocrisy of that statement rang in Lorenz’s ears and he fought to keep the smile that had emerged victorious from souring.

_Reign it in. Silence the calls. This should be easy._

“And _I_ thought there were no rules anymore. Hilda, can you go and find a nice hiding spot for this, away from a certain nosey somebody who wants to ruin the surprise?” Claude shot him a pointed look and slid the bag across the bench into her waiting arms. She scooped it up, giggling, and scurried out of the room.

“It’s only three more days until New Year’s. Can you hang on until then, Lorenz? I promise it’ll all be worthwhile!” Claude pushed himself from the bench and snaked behind Lorenz to reach for the coffee pot. Lorenz jolted at the brief contact and edged away slightly, far enough that he was out of Claude’s reach but close enough to not worry him.

Three days. Yes, three days sounded reasonable. If he could manage that long without drawing needless attention to and making a tremendous fool of himself wherever Claude was concerned, he’ll know that he has his infatuation under control.

And he supposed he could wait until then for the so-called surprise to be unveiled as well.

* * *

New Year’s Eve couldn’t come fast enough, what with how much the troublesome duo had fanned the flames of curiosity.

Much like three days ago, those who had left returned to the house in the afternoon, positively buzzing with excitement for the celebration. Food and drinks were restocked in preparation of the event, though a decidedly different sort of beverage had found its way into everyone’s hands, some in cans, some in bottles, some in plastic cups.

Lorenz was somewhat apprehensive, and that apprehension must have been written clearly on his face as Raphael urged him with a cheerful smile to ‘chill out’. He had been about to snap that relaxation does not come quite so easily before Hilda appeared, called him a ‘total mood killer’, and passed him a deep green bottle. A glance at the label confirmed it as champagne and one that wasn't cheap at that.

“Claude and I got it the other day,” she explained at his incredulous look. “We didn’t think you’d be into the vodkas and ciders and beers us _regular_ folk are drinking. Consider it a thank-you gift for,” she gestured around the room vaguely, ” _this_. You better appreciate it, okay?”

Lorenz did appreciate it and he thanked her before leaving to fetch himself a glass. He would sooner be caught dead than drinking straight from the bottle. As he would soon discover, he appreciated the taste almost as much as he did the gesture; just the right balance of sweet and strong, with a refreshing and subtle hint of strawberries. Those two knew him well, it seemed.

His worries were soon swapped for pleasant relaxation that grew when he took a seat on the couch with everyone else, joining in as they reminisced about the year that had so quickly passed them by. Colourful lights had been strung up, faint music played from somebody’s phone, some sort of electronic bass beat that thrummed in his heart and he sighed contentedly.

“Claude, Claude,” Hilda sputtered amongst fits of laughter. “Do you remember that time after exams when we—“

Claude loudly shushed her. “That was meant to be our secret!”

“Hey, don’t leave us hanging!” Leonie complained.

“I want to know too,” Lysithea agreed. “Marianne, tell us what they did this time.”

“They snuck out and got ice cream the night after midterms,” Marianne supplied, wearing a faint smile. “I stayed behind and Hilda texted me pictures.”

“ _Interesting_ ,” Lorenz turned to Claude, unamused. “And where was I while this was happening?”

“Asleep,” Claude said breezily, his swear to secrecy forgotten. “We didn’t get back until, like, 2 am and I had to sneak into my own room like some sort of spy. You slept right through it.”

“Brilliant,” Lorenz deadpanned. He moved to take another drink but found his glass was empty. The champagne bottle was within arm’s reach on the table and he could easily reach out and refill the glass without anyone so much as batting an eye.

He hesitated. Was that a good idea? How poorly could underestimating his limits backfire on him? He had always been so responsible, possessing the utmost self-control and restraint as a result of his disciplined upbringing and the thought of making such a reckless, foolish, easily avoidable mistake quickened his pulse and pinched his brow.

_No… disciplined is not the right word._

His expression darkened, luckily going unnoticed in the darkness. He had thought petty spite to be beyond him but undoing years of habits and expanding his previously-narrow viewpoint brought him a sense of satisfaction like no other.

There was no one around to scold him for daring to get too comfortable. No one but himself. And he was quite tired of being the only person unable to relax on what was supposed to be a happy occasion.

Lorenz refilled his glass only to almost spit his mouthful all over the floor when Raphael finished his story about Ignatz attempting to simultaneously take a bite of his toast and put on his glasses after sacrificing sleep to complete an art project, with predictable results. His reaction provoked more laughter from those who were listening in until everyone was cackling like they didn’t have a care in the world.

Soon, his second glass was empty as well and his fears slowly but surely slipped to the back of his mind before vanishing completely. A blissful smile spread across his face, blush warming his cheeks, and he felt so incredibly, purely _free_. He took the first sip from his third drink and looked to Claude for some reason that he couldn’t discern, perhaps for no reason at all, and his ever-growing flush seemed to deepen. As expected, Claude was laughing along with Leonie and Hilda at some inaudible story before looking down at his phone and leaping to his feet.

“Hey, everyone! It’s almost time for the countdown! Follow me outside!”

All conversation halted instantly, the phone that had been playing music was switched to a live radio broadcast ready to announce the seconds ticking down, and everyone stood to follow. Claude waited for them outside, standing proudly next to a collection of cylindrical objects, some even bearing what looked to be large arrowheads. Lorenz strained his bleary eyes to focus on them but was unable to make sense of the display.

“What is that?” He asked, craning his head forward in the hopes of getting a better look.

“It’s the big surprise you’ve all been waiting for. The icing on the cake of a fantastic party!”

Claude didn’t get a chance to explain before the countdown started.

_“10! 9! 8! 7! 6!”_

He pulled a lighter from behind his back and set the nearest stick alight.

_“5!”_

“Stand back, Deer! This way, let’s move it!” His voice called, loud and commanding.

_“4!”_

In a confusing flurry of movement, Lorenz followed his friends’ lead until they were a sufficient distance from any danger. A tiny dot of orange could barely be seen climbing its wick higher and higher.

_“3!”_

The Golden Deer gathered together in anticipation, waiting with bated breath. Fast footsteps approached and Claude joined the group, puffing and panting.

_“2!”_

Lorenz felt someone settle next to him and curl an arm around his waist. He turned his head and Claude filled his vision, head tilted towards the sky in wonder.

_“1!”_

If it were not for the traditional celebratory cheer taking up all of his attention, Lorenz may not have removed his eyes from Claude and back to the surprise.

“Happy New Year!”

Suddenly, Claude’s gadget rocketed to the sky with a squealing hiss and a thunderous boom assaulted his ears. Lorenz yelped, instinctively jumping back a step. Marianne gasped, Ignatz and Lysithea let out a pair of surprised squeaks and Hilda shrieked loudly before collapsing into a fit of laughter. Beside him, Lorenz heard Claude laugh too, felt his arm tighten. He hardly had the time to dwell on how wonderfully warm he was up close before a burst of colour pulled his eyes upwards.

It was unlike anything Lorenz had ever seen. Reds and greens and pinks and yellows and blues danced before his eyes, adorning the night sky in a way that even stars could never hope to achieve. After the initial burst, strips of bright light spread out in all directions, leaving trails that seemed to sparkle and shine before they fizzled out and another exploded in its place.

Once the spectacle was over, the Deer clapped and cheered and laughed and demanded explanations, the very pictures of glee, while Lorenz remained too stunned to formulate words.

“How’s that for starting the year off with a bang? Fun, right?” Claude proudly said to him later, taking a seat close to him on the couch. It had gotten late, much later than Lorenz was usually awake but sleep was the furthest thing from his mind.

He hummed, eyes wide with the same wonder that Claude had demonstrated a second before the first explosion. “‘Fun’ is an understatement. It was extraordinary. I’ll certainly never forget such a mesmerising sight.”

“Aw, shucks,” Claude rubbed at the back of his neck with mock bashfulness. Lorenz turned to the side to revel in his toothy grin and noticed through the dim lamplight that they were alone. “Well, in any case, I’m glad you liked it. Happy New Year, Lorenz.”

“Happy New Year, Claude.”

Claude fell silent, his eyes flicking around and looking at everything and nothing before a soft smile bloomed. He seemed to relax, gaze finally coming down to rest on Lorenz’s hands as they fidgeted with his champagne glass, now empty of its third and final drink. Lorenz was undoubtedly feeling the alcohol's effects now; eyes hooded, head fuzzy, smile lazy, skin burning and yet he couldn’t complain. He felt better than ever before.

“It’s been one crazy year, hasn’t it,” Claude murmured thoughtfully after some time.

Lorenz set the empty glass down on the side table and suddenly longed for something else to occupy his hands with. “Indeed. We’ve made many memories, you and I,” he nodded, slow and clumsy. The end of a year was often bittersweet; after so much had happened, time marched on and they had little choice but to follow. The memories they made would accompany them, some would never leave their sides, but in the end, they were bidding goodbye to the people they once were. Lorenz knew he would never look back upon his old self.

“Yeah. A lot of good ones, a lot of bad ones, but they all have one thing in common.”

“And what would that be?”

Claude grinned. “Well, they all have you in them, for one.”

Lorenz couldn’t help his inelegant snicker. He couldn’t tell if that was the most ridiculously stupid or unexpectedly profound thing he had ever heard from Claude’s mouth and his bafflement left him without a reply.

The conversation lulled again. All that could be heard was faint chatter from upstairs. Having little else to do, Lorenz lifted his head to take in Claude’s form. He seemed blurred at the edges, and Lorenz couldn’t tell if that smile was real or false, or if his arm had always been resting on the couch’s backrest, his hand inches from Lorenz’s shoulder. All he was aware of was how close Claude was, how he was emitting that same warmth that seemed to wrap around him like a blanket, and how heavily his own heart was pounding.

_Change of plans. Claude is here and I am here and I cannot let him go._

Was it the alcohol or Claude’s proximity that was affecting him more? He didn’t know, he didn’t care because Claude was so close and Lorenz couldn’t stop himself from leaning closer, closer, _closer_ —

Their lips touched gently and Lorenz felt Claude’s soft intake of breath. The kiss was fleeting and not nearly enough and Lorenz leaned closer, moving his lips with greater vigour. Claude was frozen in place, his mouth hanging slightly open and Lorenz saw an opportunity. His mind caught up to his body just before he could lick inside and chase that sweet, soft warmth, screaming, _“You fool, what are you doing?!”_

But it was too late, Claude was already pulling away. His warmth vanished and Lorenz tried to follow but a pair of hands on his shoulders forced him to still.

“Lorenz, I can’t— You don’t know what you’re doing.”

“I do, Claude, please let me—“

“ _No_ ,” his voice was firm, leaving no room for argument and he stood from the couch, running a hand through his hair. Lorenz distantly wished he had thought to do that when he still had the chance. “No, I can’t. You need to get some sleep.”

His support suddenly gone, Lorenz slumped forward on the couch, his only answer a hum muffled into the cushion.

Sleep, yes.

Sleep sounded nice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we have liftoff!
> 
> Poor Lorenz. He just can't get it right, can he?
> 
> also the golden deer are watching totoro at their movie night ok bye


	20. Only You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lorenz and Claude have a talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks a lot to Congercine aka StarHost for letting me bounce ideas off of them!
> 
>   
> tw: alcohol mention

Lorenz awoke seeing nothing and hearing everything.

Slowly, he lifted his head from the pillow he had been nestled in. From worlds away, his phone rang with a discordant blare, aggravating the newly-registered pound in his skull. He squinted at the bright sunlight streaming in and felt around blindly in search of the impromptu alarm clock.

In the corner of his eye, something red shifted and stirred.

“Ngh… turn that off,” Leonie grumbled, her voice like gravel.

“I’m trying,” Lorenz sounded much the same; unrested, uncomfortable and quickly running out of patience.

He tried to stand and promptly collapsed into an undignified heap onto the floor. Though it was only a short fall and softened somewhat by the blanket he belatedly noticed he was wrapped in, the motion did no favours for his headache and he pushed himself upright with a grimace. Why in the world had he slept on the couch and not in his bed upstairs?

His hand landed on his phone at last and he answered quickly, desperate to silence the grating noise. Still unable to adjust to the far-too-bright room, his eyes remained narrowed, the names on the screen going unseen.

“Hello, my friends— oh. Hm,” Ferdinand opened with his usual cheer before cutting himself off.

“What an exemplary start to the year,” Constance sighed. “Lorenz, you imbecile, this is a video call. Kindly remove your ear from the camera at once.”

He complied with an embarrassed sound of dawning realisation and forced his eyes open, blinking blearily at the screen. Two heads of orange and blonde slowly came into focus, one perplexed and one irritated.

“Oh, dear. What in the world did you do last night?” Ferdinand inspected him, putting his face close to the screen.

Lorenz instinctively pulled away despite the two of them not being in the same room. He paused to think but gave up when the effort proved to be too much in his groggy state.

“I have no idea.”

Constance wrinkled her nose disapprovingly. “Well, you will have time to reflect on that later. For now, I will not let myself get sidetracked from my main reason for calling, and that is to wish you both a Happy New Year!”

Ferdinand broke out into a wide grin. “Ah, yes, of course! Happy New Year, my friends! Let us make it one to remember!”

“New year… yes, Happy New Year,” Lorenz attempted to match their enthusiasm but the end result hurt his own ears and he trailed off to a low mumble.

“Dear Goddess, you are hopeless,” Constance rolled her eyes. “Go and take a shower and clean yourself up posthaste. You sound almost as miserable as you look.”

“Rather harsh, but I cannot disagree. Do not forget to keep your fluids up!” Ferdinand added. “We will be in touch tomorrow when you are hopefully feeling better. Take care, Lorenz. Farewell!”

The screen turned dark and Lorenz peered at his reflection. Glassy, hooded eyes with dark bags and a mop of dishevelled hair looked back at him and he winced in disgust.

_A shower, then._

He sighed at the first satisfying splash of hot water across his back. It was not a perfect cure for his aches and pains but at least he finally felt awake enough to rack his brain for answers to that one befuddling question.

_What did I do last night?_

Disregarding the pact he made to himself before the night truly livened up, it was a mite shameful that he had misjudged his limits to the point of memory loss. No matter, he decided quickly, the part of the night he _did_ remember had been enjoyable and, though the aftermath was decidedly not as such, he suspected all would be worth it just as long as he hadn’t done anything particularly reckless.

He thought backwards, trying to pin down the last thing he remembered. He had been inside, flitting between different groups and mingling with a glass in his hand and music playing in the background. Then Claude had pulled everyone outside for some sort of light show as the year came to a close. Fireworks, he had heard someone call them. Even in his addled state, those lights had truly been awe-inspiring and he would keep the mental image with him always, but now was not the time to get distracted.

After the fireworks, his memory fizzled out. He must have gone back inside at some point or else he would not have woken up on the couch, but why had he slept there in the first place? It was hard to believe that he would have made the purposeful decision to sleep there even while inebriated but the pillow and blanket he had been tangled in seemed to suggest he had. Either that or someone had noticed the compromising position he had assumed and decided to take pity on him and the inevitable strained limbs he would surely feel in a few short hours.

Memories began to come back in fragments. Still mental images with no sounds or movements attached flashed before his eyes one by one. The astonishment he felt at seeing the fireworks, collapsing onto the couch and collecting himself, his eyes beginning to droop after late night became early morning.

Initially, Lorenz felt underwhelmed at what his mind’s eye showed him. Perhaps he had slept on the couch simply because he had grown too exhausted to drag himself upstairs. Perhaps there was little that he had been missing after all.

But the memories didn't stop there.

Eventually, Claude entered the room and seated himself close by. Lorenz couldn’t recreate the entire conversation that ensued; only a series of sentence fragments and short phrases came back to him. Fun, the new year, memories, both good and bad. He remembered the silence that fell shortly after, peaceful and contemplative as neither saw fit to break it.

He remembered, too, how close they had grown. Which of them had been responsible for that? And was his mind deceiving him or was Claude drawing even closer, eyes widening and breath hitching as their lips pressed together and—

Lorenz’s mind stuttered to a halt and went blank. A shuddering gasp ripped itself from his lungs and a wave of cold panic flooded him as though he wasn’t standing under a jet of hot water.

For a moment, he felt nothing. He merely stood stock-still, hands frozen in the midst of lathering his hair with shampoo.

Surely it was not as it seemed. Surely it was just a dream and he did not actually… _kiss_ Claude.

He let the rest of the memory play out.

There was little that happened after the point where he interrupted himself. Lorenz swallowed heavily as he saw, _felt_ himself kiss once, twice, very nearly thrice, when Claude stopped him and said something that he hadn’t really listened to. Then, darkness.

Distantly, Lorenz reached around and turned off the water, stepping out of the shower and bracing himself against the sink before his legs could give out. He peered at his reflection in the steam-covered mirror, hands reaching up to grasp fistfuls of dripping hair. His lungs heaved beneath his bare chest and his skin burned red and blotchy, impossible to tell if it was from the heat or from shame and embarrassment.

It was unmistakable; what had happened was no dream. He had done the single worst thing he could have done in that moment; the one thing he had told himself he would avoid doing under any circumstances.

He knew it deep within his heart and could hardly stand to look at his reflection. Claude had pushed him away last night— _of course_ he had pushed him away, what else had he been expecting—but the Claude of his dreams would have done no such thing.

Lorenz flicked on the overhead fan to clear away the overbearing heat and forced in lungfuls of the cool air before he could faint.

Why did he do that? _Why in the world did he do that?_

How in the Goddess’s good name could he have done something so unfathomably foolish?

Worse, what was he supposed to do now?

Should he find Claude and explain himself? Apologise and beg for forgiveness?

Would Claude even want to see him or was he disgusted, betrayed, humiliated, disturbed, never wanting to lay eyes on Lorenz again?

His chest constricted painfully at the thought, the product of his own inability to control himself, and the sensation seemed to pull him from the depths of his mind and back to reality. There was little use in panicking in the bathroom, and he gave himself time to dry off and regain his composure before leaving. Apart from Leonie, he hadn’t yet happened upon any of the Deer, nor did he have any idea if they would be in any state to notice if he seemed more restless than usual but he took no chances.

They _could not_ know what had happened.

He padded to the master bedroom, passing no one on the way, and dressed himself before hastening to investigate downstairs. He entered the kitchen, finding Hilda, Lysithea and Ignatz already there, and pulled a cold bottle of water from the fridge to keep himself grounded. The girls were seated at the dining table, talking quietly so as not to disturb the lattermost slumped forward at the breakfast bar, one hand pressing an ice pack to the back of his head and the other clutching a mug of coffee. Lorenz raised an eyebrow but didn’t comment out of sympathy for the poor boy, instead directing his attention to the large glass windows before him. Outside, Marianne and Leonie sat in the shade of the patio while Raphael was further away, running laps of the backyard. All in all, the Deer seemed more subdued than usual, though he supposed that was to be expected the day after such a lively party.

And yet, one person remained unseen.

Lorenz’s stomach dropped with preemptive dread and he forced himself to clear his throat and address the room.

“Excuse me,” he winced and lowered his voice when Ignatz let out a pained whine. “Has anyone seen Claude around?”

“Oh, yeah, I meant to tell you about that earlier but you seemed a bit too hungover,” Hilda said. “Claude took off at around dawn this morning. Told me he had to leave but didn’t really say why.”

“Really? I had assumed he was upstairs,” Lysithea frowned. “How rude of him to leave without informing the rest of us.”

Lorenz stilled mid-step as he moved to sit next to them. He waited for Hilda to elaborate, assure him it wasn’t what he thought, or perhaps laugh and say she was joking. She didn’t.

Claude was gone. He had left long before Lorenz was even awake, doubtless repulsed and seeking to put as much distance between them as possible.

Defeated, Lorenz pulled out a chair and sunk down. His hopes had been dashed before he could even attempt to form a plan. At the very, _very_ least, it seemed Claude had not told Hilda what happened, though that was but a single ray of sunlight shining through a sky of dark rainclouds.

Lysithea looked up at him, an eyebrow raised at his despondency, and he hurried to comment before she could become suspicious.

“I’m more concerned about how sudden this is. I was under the impression he was staying for at least a few more days, just as you and Marianne are. And you say you don’t know where he went?”

Hilda shook her head. “Nope. I guess it’s possible he had somewhere to be, but I’m pretty sure either you or me would have known if he had other commitments.”

Between shame from losing control, heartbreak from being rejected and regret from expressing his affection so inappropriately, Lorenz felt the weight of guilt curl through him. Yes, Hilda was right, Claude _would_ have trusted him with that sort of information, and what had he done with that trust? Thrown it down to the floor and walked all over it until it was bruised and broken, a shell of its former self.

“I mean, we all know Claude isn’t the _most_ organised guy around, but I do think it’s weird that he didn’t even wait until everyone else was up,” Hilda continued, one hand cupping her cheek as though she was in deep thought. “It makes me think this wasn’t planned. Like… did something happen last night or something?”

All at once, the air shot out of Lorenz’s lungs and it was all he could do to not let his shock register on its face. It was a reasonable conclusion for her to come to at the least, and a coincidence at the most, surely. Hilda didn’t know, there was no possible way she could know.

“Well, look at it this way,” Lysithea cut in before he could begin to stutter out a reply. “Last time Claude disappeared overnight, it was because he had some sort of work obligation to attend to, correct? Perhaps this is a similar situation and you’re both worrying over nothing.”

“I guess that’s one explanation,” Hilda plucked her phone from the table and gazed down at it, contemplating. “If you’re right and he really is busy, he probably won’t be able to pick up, huh?”

“It couldn’t hurt to try,” Lorenz pointed out. He wasn’t sure why he spoke up; the worst had already been confirmed and there was little he could do to salvage the situation at this point.

It was the wrong thing to say; Hilda turned big, hopeful eyes on him before he could change his mind.

“Oh, you want to do the honours? Fine by me.”

Lorenz suppressed a sigh, bitterly aware of the hole he had dug himself into. Both girls waited expectantly and without sufficient reason to backpedal, he had no choice but to comply. His phone felt like a lead weight as he pulled it from his pocket and lifted it to his ear, the very prospect of hearing Claude’s voice making his heart race with nerves more intense than he had felt in his entire life.

A first dial.

A second dial.

A third dial.

And then—

“Claude von Riegan. Leave a message.”

Lorenz blinked, slowly bringing the phone down and staring at it as though he had never seen it before. Claude’s contact picture covered the screen, one of the many photos he had taken of himself after swiping the phone while Lorenz was distracted with exam revision. One eye was closed in a wink while the other sparkled with mischief and mirth. His tongue stuck out from between his quirked lips and his left hand was lifted in a peace sign.

He looked decidedly happier than Lorenz felt in that moment.

“No good?” Hilda asked glumly.

Lorenz hung up without leaving a message. What could he possibly have said?

“Worse than that,” he muttered. “It went to voicemail after specifically three dials.”

“An irregular amount. He must have declined it,” Lysithea mused. “Sounds like proof that he’s busy to me. If he was in a position to answer anyone’s call, it would be yours.”

Lorenz replayed the words in his mind. Claude declined his call. Claude didn’t want to speak to him. Claude was avoiding him. He felt hopeless and hollow, the will to fight back against his mind’s claims draining away.

“Oh well, guess that’s that,” Hilda dusted off her hands, slouching in her chair as if the conversation had expended a great amount of effort. She turned to him, eyes softening. “Oh, don’t look so worried, Lorenz. If it’s still crickets in a couple hours, we’ll try again, okay?”

He nodded, not trusting himself to say anything without his voice breaking, and left the room.

The living room, as expected, looked appalling. Empty bottles and cups dotted the end tables and spots on the floor, bowls containing only crumbs or wrappers had been left out, and blankets and pillows still littered the couches where the Deer had slept.

Including his, Lorenz realised with a burning grip deep within his throat.

Playing the shameful memory back in his mind had been one ordeal, but looking upon the very place where it had happened was another matter entirely. Quickly, he tore his eyes away and set to cleaning, telling himself it was because he couldn’t stand to leave the room in such a mess. He retrieved the box of garbage bags that he had the foresight to purchase ahead of time, the vacuum cleaner, and some rubber gloves for good measure.

Cleaning up after his friends was mundane, unappealing, and not at all how he expected his day to play out but served as a welcome distraction for the blend of emotions bubbling beneath his skin, pulsing through his heart, screaming within his head. He settled into a rhythm: as long as he kept moving, kept his hands busy picking up this or throwing away that, his mind would remain too preoccupied to berate him.

At first, it seemed reliable. Foolproof.

Then he looked out over the spotless room with nothing left to distract him. Sunlight spilled in from the windows, painting the deceptively-tranquil scene before him in oranges and pinks.

The floodgates opened again.

He had been cleaning for hours, long enough for sunset to fall, and yet he had irresponsibly ignored the call of his conscience. Merely pretending he had not committed such a grave error would not make it come true and attempting to convince himself as such, distracting himself with the ridiculous agenda of playing housekeeper, was completely pointless.

And yet, was there anything better that he could do?

No. The answer was no, because he had acted on impulse, on his own selfish desires, and as a result, driven away his dearest friend, his guiding light, his beacon of hope, his pillar of support, his everything.

His eyes burned, tears falling freely down his cheeks, and he swallowed down the first choked gasp just in case anyone was still within listening distance.

What would become of him, of _them_ , if Claude continued to avoid him? Going days or even weeks over the holiday break without seeing him was nothing new, as it simply wasn’t possible for them to spend every hour of every day with each other, but what of when they returned to Garreg Mach? They were still roommates and no amount of hatred or disgust from Claude would change that.

A sob successfully broke free at that final, harrowing thought. Lorenz wouldn’t be able to handle Claude’s barbed words or bared teeth or worse, Claude coldly shunning him. Losing everything and going back to the days when their friendship couldn’t even be called a friendship, when Claude said nothing and meant it, wearing a permanent mask of neutrality.

There was nothing that would ruin Lorenz more than Claude shutting him out entirely. He would sooner die than come to terms with losing something so dear to him, even if it was exactly what he deserved after being so thoughtless.

A third sob wracked his frame, shoulders shaking, lungs and heart constricting painfully, and he suddenly remembered that he was openly weeping in the middle of the living room. His friends could walk in and see at any time and he would well and truly be in trouble if that happened, as they would doubtless see through any poor, pitiful excuse of a lie he attempted to throw at them. He hastily dried his tears and took a few deep, calming breaths before setting off to wash his face.

The water was cool and refreshing as he splashed his face and slowed his racing mind. He couldn’t say with confidence that all hope was not lost yet, as Claude still hadn’t shown himself or returned his call, and there was little he could do about that now. Only time would tell if Claude would return, if he would want an explanation or apology, or if he sought to cut all ties as soon as he possibly could. Whatever it came down to, Lorenz would have little choice in the matter, despite how much the uncertainty, the agonising wait, and the fear of his worst nightmares coming true tore him up inside.

He dried his face, replaced the hand towel and made the walk back downstairs to begin preparing dinner. Despite doing rather little all day, the continuous mental strain had taken its toll on him and Lorenz decided then and there than an early night was in order. He trudged into the kitchen, saw the single figure seated at the dining table and instantly stopped short.

The sight of him yelping and leaping into the air like a cat splashed by a bucket of water must have been hilarious for Claude, sitting idle with his hands clasped together patiently.

“Oh, there you are,” he said, voice light and breezy, though his face, his _eyes_ , were cold and serious.

Lorenz couldn’t find the words to respond. Claude’s very presence there was utterly baffling on its own, let alone his air of clearly-fabricated nonchalance. This was it, this was what he had been afraid of, and it had come true before he could adequately prepare himself.

“You look rattled,” Claude stated, perhaps impatient to cut to the chase and remove this loose end before ending their relationship. “Care to sit down and we can have a chat?”

Lorenz complied, sitting down opposite him. He couldn’t bring himself to meet Claude’s eyes and the scorn surely filling them, reserved just for him. He opened his mouth to say something and, for a moment, all that came out was a choked sputter as his breath caught and his words failed.

“Claude, I—“ his voice broke, cracking inelegantly. “I don’t know what to say, where to begin. I am… so unspeakably sorry about my behaviour last night,” he forced himself to look up at Claude then, so as not to appear insincere, though the sight of his furrowed brows and pursed lips was nearly too much to bear. “I lost control of myself and did something horribly selfish without any regard for your comfort. I hope you can accept my deepest, sincerest apologies, though I, of course, understand if you cannot and I will not fight you if you walk out this door and—“

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Slow down,” Claude stopped him, waving his hands. “What are you talking about? I’m not leaving.”

Lorenz’s head swung up before he could stop himself. His vision had blurred slightly, but he was fairly sure he saw a look of confusion, not rage, on Claude’s face. Amongst his disbelief, he felt a tiny glimmer of hope, though he couldn’t let his guard down yet.

“You’re not?”

“No, I would never. I came here to sort things out with you and I’m not leaving until I find the answers I’m looking for.”

“Oh.”

That sliver of hope grew ever so slightly. Claude didn’t appear to be angry with him, though he was undeniably and understandably perplexed.

“Yeah, ‘oh’. Well, in any case, we can get to what happened last night later. Right now, you’re probably wondering where I’ve been all day.”

“Of course. I’ve been terribly worried,” Lorenz said without hesitation.

“Yeah, Hilda told me,” Claude broke out into a tiny smile. That, at least, was a comfort. “Speaking of which, I sent her and everyone else off to get dinner, so we can talk for as long as we need. You know how they are when they have to agree on something.”

As much as he wanted to share in the humour, Lorenz couldn’t, not when there was so much still left unsaid. He said nothing, wishing for Claude to take the hint and return to the matter at hand.

“Anyway, back on track,” Claude shook his head, a hand rubbing the back of his neck as if embarrassed at having gone off-topic. “Last night really threw me for a loop, you know. So much so, in fact, that I had no idea what to do or how to react for hours. The sun rose and I hadn’t slept a wink and I just… needed some time to really process it. Collect myself, as one might say. When you called me, it was still a bit too soon and I just didn’t know what to tell you so don’t think I blew you off for malicious reasons. I only came to my senses about an hour ago when Hilda called and told me you were worried sick. She was worried too, of course, but it was mainly you that I was thinking about.”

Lorenz listened to the whole explanation, not breathing, blinking or speaking. He could hardly believe the words he was hearing, though he knew better than to doubt Claude or think him capable of lying in such a tense moment. By the time he finished, Lorenz was just as at a loss as he was when he first entered the room. Claude didn’t sound or look angry or disgusted or betrayed or any of the other ugly feelings that Lorenz had anticipated, but quite the opposite. It seemed almost too good to be true and he had to confirm it for himself.

“So,” he began tentatively, heart pounding, “you’re not upset with me?”

Claude’s eyes went wide. “Upset? No, nothing like that. Completely floored, maybe, but not upset.”

Lorenz stared disbelievingly, gauging him for any hints of deception. How could he say with a straight face that he wasn’t upset? How was that even remotely possible?

“Why not?” He breathed. “After I acted entirely on impulse, thinking only of myself, how can that be? How can you suggest that such a notion is so implausible?”

“‘Why not’?” Claude repeated, stroking his chin thoughtfully. “That’s a good question. Really, if you want me to be honest, the most upsetting part was that you weren’t sober, otherwise I would have reciprocated.”

Silence.

They stared, neither moving a muscle. Claude wasn’t smiling, wasn’t averting his eyes, wasn’t joking. What he was supposed to do with that observation, Lorenz didn’t know, because suddenly his throat was dry and his mind was blank and he had forgotten how to speak. His body caught up before his mind did, heat rushing to his cheeks, and he coughed.

“You—” was all he could force out before he needed to stop and breathe. “You what?”

“If you were sober, I would have reciprocated,” Claude spoke slower the second time as if that would make the words make sense. "Obviously, I wasn’t going to take advantage of you when you were under the influence so you left me no choice, I’m afraid.”

“What are you saying?” Lorenz dared to ask, his voice barely a whisper. His mind had wandered off in a direction confined only to his deepest dreams but he didn’t allow himself to hope for them to come true. Not yet.

“Come on, do I really need to spell it out for you?” Claude rolled his eyes in exasperation and, of all the things he could have done, reached across the table to grasp Lorenz’s hands. Lorenz let out a small, shocked sound but didn’t pull away. Claude looked up at him, his smile large enough to soothe a fraction of his fears but small enough to avoid making light of the situation.

“I think you’re incredible, Lorenz. A real sight to behold. You’ve grown so much this past year, come so far, and you’re one of the strongest and most admirable people I know because of it. You’ve owned my heart for a while now, so when you kissed me last night, it was more a pleasant surprise than anything else,” he sat back with a satisfied smile before adding hastily, “emphasis on the ‘surprise’. I never would have imagined that you would make the first move or that it would be after a couple drinks.”

When he finished, Lorenz was truly speechless. His hands fell limply to the table when Claude let them go, burning where their fingers had intertwined. His mouth hung open but no words came out; anything he might have said would have been drowned out by his heart pounding in his ears like thunder.

“You what?” He repeated, sounding even more foolish than before.

“You heard me,” Claude said, grinning. It was a genuine smile, Lorenz noticed, a sight that he hadn’t expected to see again so soon, if ever.

It was true; Lorenz had indeed heard him, he just wasn’t certain he had heard him _correctly_.

“Are you sure?” He couldn’t help but ask.

“Huh? Yes, Lorenz, of course I’m sure,” Claude looked affronted at that, his cheer wavering for just a moment before returning in full force.

The seconds dragged on, everlasting until Lorenz remembered that such a grand confession required an answer. Luckily, Claude didn’t seem to mind the wait.

“Well. This is most unexpected,” his voice shook, equal parts from shock, disbelief and hope, and he paused to clear his throat. “I... must confess that I hold similar feelings of admiration and devotion towards you. Simply put, I adore you, Claude.”

It was the most he could say before he had to stop; any more and he feared he may faint from the combined forces of the heat emanating from his face, the shortness of breath as his lungs struggled simply to inhale and exhale, and Claude’s intense gaze.

But it appeared that saying more was not necessary, as Claude’s smile grew wider and happier than Lorenz had ever seen.

“Yeah? I’m really glad to hear that.”

He reached back across the table and seized just one of Lorenz’s hands in his own, squeezing reassuringly. He was warm, as always, and the familiarity comforted him. He let himself breathe deeply until his hand stopped shaking in Claude’s grip. It was a turn of events that he would have never seen coming, holding Claude’s hand in his own after confessing mutual adoration, but one question had been left unanswered.

Lorenz cleared his throat again, both as a way to get Claude’s attention and because he wasn’t convinced he had regained full control of his voice. “So. What now?”

“What now?” Claude furrowed his brows and pulled his phone from his pocket without letting go of Lorenz’s hand. “Well, the Deer will be back with dinner in about ten minutes. Sushi, it looks like they decided on. Is that okay with you?”

Lorenz smacked his hand lightly. “That’s not what I mean and you know it.”

“My answer is, what’s the rush?” Though Claude laughed, the question was serious. “This is new for both of us and I can tell you’re still nervous. We don’t need to have all the answers right away.”

“Be that as it may, I would still… like to know…” Lorenz’s voice trailed off as he realised he didn’t know what he was arguing for. As always, Claude could read him like a book; all he was certain of was that whatever they had _was_ new for him and he _was_ nervous.

“Hey,” Claude seemed to understand, leaning down and pressing a feather-light kiss to the back of Lorenz’s palm. “Whatever’s in store for us, we’ll find out together. You and me, against the world. What do you say?”

Lorenz’s breath stuttered and left him all over again. He could do little but nod wordlessly, letting the fears of the day float away in a single sigh of relief.

Claude von Riegan was going to be the death of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ITS THE MOMENT YOUVE ALL BEEN WAITING FOR!
> 
> Lorenz finally got a break after so much angst and I can only hope this chapter is everything you were hoping for and more 💜💛
> 
> But we aren't done yet folks. I have no idea how many chapters are left but I can't imagine its very many. We're on the home stretch, as bittersweet as it may be!


	21. Against the World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now that he's finally on the same page as Claude, Lorenz turns his attention to other pressing matters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi. There was a bit of a delay in even starting this chapter, let alone posting it, so whoops.
> 
> I stayed up super late to finish, edit and post the last chapter all in one night which super burned me out and I had no idea how to write this chapter. I also started a new course this week which meant less time to dick around and stare at my document for hours on end. But in the end I was able to pace myself and whip up something that I'm pretty happy with, all things considered. Enjoy 💜💛
> 
> Also, a TREMENDOUS thank you to my friend Caps aka PunnyMints for helping with the legal stuff in this chapter! Without you this chapter may have taken another week just to finish and I probably would have butchered all the details anyway lmfao
> 
> tw alcohol mention, death mention

In the coming days, not much changed in Lorenz’s routine but he supposed not much needed to change to feel like he and Claude had entered a new beginning.

He was still unsure what to make of this… partnership they had entered. So much had happened in just a few short days, so much that was new and scary and exciting for him. Blessedly, Claude acted largely normal and in the face of such uncertainty, Lorenz let the familiarity and comfort of his presence ground him and gladly followed his lead.

Claude had said to him that they did not need to answer every question straight away and Lorenz came to accept as much days later, when he still did not have an answer to many of his questions. All that mattered was how much more contagious Claude’s joy seemed to be, eyes bright and smiles wide as he snaked an arm around Lorenz’s waist or tenderly grasped his hand.

At first, it was difficult to not be affected by such overt gestures of affection even though they were confined to the times when no one else was around. After the discussion on New Year's Day, Lorenz made the single request to allow him some time to adjust before they informed anyone else to which Claude agreed, his smile gentle with understanding. In time, Lorenz grew used to and welcomed Claude’s closeness as the other Deer bid goodbye one by one and set off for their own homes.

Lysithea was the first to leave after growing restless with no books to read or material to study. Ignatz and Raphael departed soon after to resume their work with Ignatz’s family and Leonie followed before she could fall too far behind on lessons with her personal trainer. Soon, only Hilda and Marianne remained, though they spent as much time inside the house as they did outside and had held off on teasing Lorenz as they had the first day they arrived.

Despite their newfound privacy, all of the courage that drove Lorenz to take the first leap of faith and kiss Claude had vanished without a trace. No matter what, no matter how alone they were or how right the moment seemed, he simply could not bring himself to bridge the gap between them. Whenever the idea so much as flitted through his mind, he froze up with nerves and his heart beat like thunder in his chest.

Lorenz grew frustrated with himself quickly. As embarrassing as it was to acknowledge, those fleeting, feather-light touches and that gentle intimacy was appealing to him, to put it mildly. Not to mention, he was eager to rectify his initial lapse in judgement and the tarnishing of what was supposed to be a significant milestone.

Anxiety held him back but Claude, as ever, was patient and seemed to understand Lorenz’s hesitancy without him saying anything. What his lips didn’t say, his eyes did.

_You and me, against the world._

A smile wormed its way onto Lorenz’s face as he gazed into the bathroom mirror one morning in particular. He had admired women around the academy before for their beauty and grace, and yet, after so many months of doubting himself, there was no longer any use in denying that what he felt for Claude was so much more than what he had felt for them. He was caring and understanding, and so, so perceptive and intelligent. He always knew just what to say to make Lorenz smile or put his fears at ease, despite getting on his nerves just as often. And he supposed Claude was quite pleasant to look at too.

Boyfriends.

Lorenz had wanted to scoff and turn away to hide his embarrassment when Claude uttered that word for the first time on that one eventful evening. It sounded unfamiliar and juvenile to his own ears, ill-befitting and nonsensical and far removed from the wife he had thought he was searching for, let alone the girlfriend that was supposed to precede the wife.

Though there was still much about himself, about Claude, about the situation they had stumbled into that Lorenz did not understand, he had faith everything would fall into place in due time, so long as Claude remained a warm and comforting presence by his side.

* * *

Hilda and Marianne said their goodbyes later that day, ready for the long drive back to southern Leicester. The house fell quiet as their chatter disappeared down the driveway and in the near-complete silence, Lorenz remembered something.

Ten days had passed since he had learned Father was far more evil than ever imagined.

He hadn’t anticipated this period of respite would last so long or that he would get so sidetracked but now that his wits were about him, he would not wait a moment longer.

Father must be stopped before he could cause any more destruction. No longer would he be allowed to get away with his sins, continuing to stand tall and proud while the world remained unaware of the depths of his corruption. But, given the extensive list of his misdeeds, it was apparent that Lorenz could not face such a foe alone, and he was thankful he didn’t have to.

Gingerly, he picked his phone from the nightstand. He had some explaining to do before Iria would join his cause. When he left the house almost two weeks ago, she had looked at him with wide-eyed, motherly concern but relented at the admittedly paltry excuse that he was off to spend time with friends. It hadn’t been untrue, but it also hid the truth that Lorenz would hide no longer.

“Hello, my son!” She crowed in his ear. “How are you? I’ve been worried sick waiting to hear from you! Are you still with your friends?”

“I am quite well, Mother. Do not fret; I am with Claude,” he smiled softly at her concern. “Everyone else was with us for New Year's and the days thereafter, but they have since returned to their own homes.”

“Ah, that’s a relief. It’s good you’ve got company. And how is Claude?”

Lorenz pursed his lips. He was not yet able to face the Deer; was facing his mother beyond the realm of possibility too?

_Not now. There are more important matters at hand._

“Claude is doing well. We’re in a holiday house near Kupala. It’s quite cozy.”

“Kupala! That’s quite the journey from home!” She sounded equal parts impressed and amused.“What in the world are you doing up there?”

He hesitated briefly, before deciding that honesty was more prudent than more excuses. “Well, ah. That is somewhat related to why I am calling you today. But first, is Father home?”

Iria clicked her tongue. “No, you’re quite lucky. He’s staying in Derdriu for an important set of conferences this week.”

Lorenz gave a devious smile that Claude probably would have been proud of. Lucky was an understatement; Father had unknowingly presented him with the perfect opportunity.

“In that case, I recently came into some knowledge about Father, some rather disturbing knowledge at that, and sought to distance myself from him while I… processed.”

The word felt odd leaving his mouth. It was something he had heard Claude say many times, as a suggestion or a plea, and only recently had Lorenz come to understand its importance.

“I’m glad you gave yourself that time. Those friends have been a good influence on you,” despite the praise, Iria’s tone was solemn.

“Yes, as am I. But now, the time for sitting idle has passed. And I need your help in bringing him to justice.”

A pause. “What do you need, my son?”

* * *

Her response didn’t come until later that evening.

> **Direct Message**   
>  **Guardian 5 6:42 pm**
> 
> **Mother:** You were right. Part of me didn’t want to believe it but by the Goddess, you were right.

Lorenz instantly rose from the couch and phoned her. She picked up quickly, too quick to offer an explanation to Claude as he confusedly paused their movie.

“What did you find?” Lorenz demanded by way of greeting.

“Phone calls,” she breathed. “Recordings from three years ago. The bastard plotted to kill that Godfrey man with someone called _Arundel_ and got so far as to transfer fees to him but cancelled the deal when the poor man died from ‘natural causes’.”

The name Arundel, spat like a curse, wasn’t one that Lorenz recognised. But that was hardly important; Father had left behind damning evidence of his atrocities, condemning himself and his accomplice. This was the chance to remove him that they had been waiting for but never dreamed would happen.

He had to be certain it wasn’t too good to be true. “Will it be sufficient?”

“The voice is unmistakable. I have no idea who this Arundel is but frankly, I don’t care. This little plot of theirs was meticulously planned out and identified their… _target_. No one could ignore this,” she let out a puff of air that swelled into humourless laughter. “I’d long since known that he was a rat, but this is a new low. A killer, under my roof…”

Lorenz’s shock and disbelief gave way to awe, powerful and pulsing through him like a bolt of lighting. And yet he willed himself to remain wholly calm and composed. Their work was not yet done and he couldn’t afford to get his hopes up.

“Take everything and report it at once. Would you like me to accompany you to the local police station? I can be at the estate tomorrow morning.”

A hand latched onto his elbow and he turned. Claude stared at him, brows tightly pinched in worry.

“What’s going on?” He mouthed.

Rather than explaining, Lorenz thumbed the call to speaker.

“No, thank you, I’ll be fine,” Iria’s voice resounded through the room. “Besides, your father won’t be back until tomorrow evening and there’s no time to waste.”

“Mrs Gloucester,” Claude cut in. “Forgive me for the interruption but I gotta ask. Is everything okay?”

“Yes, I—I’ll manage. Just until that wicked man is gone,” her voice sounded distant but weightless; a testament to her saintly patience.

“Do not worry; we will be rid of him soon,” the words were difficult to say through the giddy smile that threatened to split Lorenz’s face as his restraint rapidly dwindled. “Father’s computer was hiding a trove of information that we suspect the authorities may take an interest in,” he clarified in an aside whisper.

Claude’s eyes lit up and he broke into a broad, toothy smile. He nodded once, leaning towards the receiver.

“Tomorrow morning, like Lorenz said.”

* * *

Lorenz stepped out of his car the next morning and took in the sight of police overrunning the estate. The large gates he usually entered and parked through had been blocked by one of their cars, forcing him to park in the street where several other cars were scattered about. A few officers milled about in the front yard while many more were likely inside searching.

The thought of the very home he grew up in being ransacked was… eerie. Strange, bitter, unsettling and oddly affirming but eerie, more than anything. Despite such unease, Lorenz knew exactly what and who he was there for, so he headed towards the entranceway with Claude in tow, only for the door to be blocked by the nearest officer.

“Who are _you_?” A short man with curled blond hair and a matching moustache sneered, leaning forward and scrutinising them in an unsuccessful attempt to seem intimidating. “Only authorised personnel may enter these premises.”

“My name is Lorenz Hellman Gloucester and I am a resident of this estate,” he introduced himself politely despite openly looking down his nose at the officer. He gestured to Claude, attempting to peer through the curtains of a nearby window. “This is Claude von Riegan and he is with me.”

“I suppose you’re the son of our suspect, hm? Well, as much as I’d love to inform you of the state of our investigation, I’m afraid I cannot disclose details to the public at this time. Now, scram; my team would appreciate it if you didn’t get in their way.”

Judging by the officer’s smug smile, he wasn’t feeling the least bit apologetic. Lorenz frowned at his grating attitude but thanked him and spun on his heel anyway, more to rid his sight of the irritating man than anything else.

The serenity of the back garden was calming compared to the backdrop of bustling officers tearing the house apart and the anticipation buzzing under his skin and setting every nerve alight. He could only imagine what secrets and scandals they were uncovering inside, deep within Father’s computer and Goddess knows where else, and how close he was to his first taste of true freedom. Soon he would grow and flourish like the elegant red roses he admired, without the twisted roots beneath the soil pulling him down. It seemed too grand to even fathom.

Sensing his contemplation, Claude rested a warm hand on his shoulder. “Hey. It’ll all be over soon, then you won’t have to think about him anymore. Can you hang on until then?”

Lorenz opened his mouth to reply, to thank him for his support and comfort and contact, but a cry of glee in the distance stopped him short.

“There you are, my son! And is that the Claude I’ve heard so much about?”

Both men turned to meet the voice, the hand vanishing from Lorenz’s shoulder. He hardly had time to miss it before he was pulled into one of Iria’s crushing embraces. She laughed joyfully, decidedly more cheerful than usual, and Lorenz found himself gasping for breath when she released him.

“Mother! I am relieved to see you too but please take more care, won’t you?” He managed, glaring half-heartedly at Claude’s snickering.

“A pleasure to finally meet you,” Claude ignored him, instead offering his hand for Iria to shake. “I’m Claude von Riegan and I accompanied Lorenz here for support.”

Iria beamed and leaned towards Lorenz conspiratorially, a hand covering her mouth though she made no attempt to lower her voice. “Oh, I like him. Very polite.”

Claude cleared his throat lowly, a hand rubbing at the back of his neck in embarrassment. “Can you fill us in on what’s been happening? We were refused entry by some nuisance out the front.”

“Yes, I know the one. He kicked me out too,” Iria rolled her eyes, turning towards the greenhouse she emerged from. “Come and have a seat over here and I’ll tell you what I know.”

* * *

Lorenz wasn’t sure how long they simply sat in the garden and talked until the telltale rumbling of a limousine engine brought him to his senses. Instantly, he leapt to his feet and tore off towards the entranceway. Claude and Iria followed closely, their conversation forgotten. He didn’t know what he expected to see, if not Father seething and glaring daggers at an important-looking officer, but the sight still stopped him short anyway, breath catching in his throat.

“I said,” Father spat, his voice cold and dangerous, “ _what_ is the meaning of this?”

The officer didn’t flinch, meeting Father’s intense stare head-on. “And _I_ said, are you Baron Edrich Gloucester? We have a warrant for your arrest and require your presence at the station.”

Father ignored the man in front of him, sidestepping and pointing a finger at someone unseen. “ _Acheron!_ Is this your doing? I thought I ordered you to stop sniffing around here.”

“That’s o _fficer_ Acheron to you,” the same man from earlier barked, stomping from the doorway. “And I suggest you comply with our requests, lest we be forced to detain you.”

Fury emanated from Father’s very being, his only answer a low, animalistic snarl as his face reddened and his hands balled into fists.

Then, he suddenly turned his head towards the three onlookers, locking eyes with each before beginning to stalk towards Iria.

Lorenz moved on impulse, stepping in front and spreading his limbs wide to shield her. He met the fire in his father’s eyes with a frigid glare of his own, fearless and steadfast and challenging. Claude let out a panicked cry, Iria gasped and took a step back, and Father’s arms were pulled behind his back before he could come any closer, a metallic click ringing through the air.

It was then that the front door of the limousine opened and a familiar face appeared.

“Whoa, whoa! Let’s not be hasty, officers! This is all just a misunderstanding, I’m sure,” Bernard was his typical loud and boisterous self, though his energy belied a frantic urgency.

“Ha!” Acheron laughed, a shrill and unpleasant sound that cut through the air. “I think not. We’ve already searched the premises and located a substantial amount of evidence linked to his name,” he paused, looking Bernard up and down. “Including evidence of an accomplice. Tell me, would you happen to be one Volkhard von Arundel?”

Bernard sputtered in confusion, either from the accusation, being proved wrong, the unfamiliar name, or perhaps some combination of all three. Father struggled in his restraints, outraged and spitting a colourful array of curses. Lorenz’s lips curled; it would have been humorous if it wasn’t so pathetically pitiful, and Father wasn’t long overdue to be permanently removed from his sight.

“Well, I think we’re done here,” the officer holding Father in place began to lead him to the nearest car, opening the back door and seating him inside.

Then, he said the words that echoed in Lorenz’s skull, forever imprinted into his memory.

“Baron Edrich Gloucester, you are under arrest for conspiracy, negligent homicide and suspicion of aggravated blackmail.”

The collection of squad cars peeled away one by one until the driveway was empty and the estate was silent, save for the blood pounding in Lorenz’s ears and the laboured heaving of his breaths. He heard a soft sniff behind him and turned, carefully gathering Iria into his arms. She sobbed openly, her tears wetting his shoulder and Lorenz didn’t need to ask if she was okay. He used one hand to wipe at his own tearful eyes and extended the other to the lone figure standing to the side. Claude took it with only a moment’s hesitation and was pulled into the embrace, seamlessly slotting himself alongside mother and son like they were pieces of a puzzle.

The taste of freedom was fresh and sweet; a promise of brighter days to come.

* * *

Once the initial overwhelming shock wore off, euphoria settled in and didn’t leave Lorenz for the rest of the night. Spirits remained high all around as Iria popped open a bottle of white wine with a loud whoop and Claude never left his side, nor did his relaxed smile ever leave his face.

“This calls for a celebration!” Iria announced, setting three glasses on the dining table. “Would you like some wine, Claude?”

Claude’s eyes widened, but he stopped himself before he could respond too quickly. “Look, that’s a really generous offer but I shouldn’t overstay my welcome,” his gaze dropped down to the floor guiltily. “It’s bad enough I was there to witness something so personal earlier.”

“Nonsense,” Lorenz and Iria chastised him in unison. Iria dashed back into the kitchen for their meal, so Lorenz continued. “I insist that you stay here tonight. You helped end Father's tyranny as well, you know. Need I remind you that it is thanks to you that I learned of his depravity in the first place? Besides, I drove you here. Where else would you go at this time of night?”

Claude laughed, holding up both hands. “Okay, okay, you’ve convinced me! I’ll stay, but just for tonight,” his playful grin morphed into one that was smaller, but softer and warmer. “Thank you, Lorenz. I mean it.”

Lorenz tore his eyes away, as much as he wished he could permanently preserve that look in his mind, and pulled out the chair beside his own for Claude. “Think nothing of it, Claude. It is the least we can do.”

Unknowing of the exchange that was taking place, Iria chose that moment to burst back into the room, a delightful smelling dish of the finest Airmid pike in her hands. The last of Claude’s apprehension seemed to melt away as he glimpsed the meal and eagerly piled a sizeable serving onto his plate. Glasses were poured and toasted, portions on each plate vanished and were replaced with dessert in the form of bowls of sweet berry sorbet, Lorenz, Claude and Iria never ceasing their excitable and jubilant celebrating throughout. It was a modest party but Lorenz couldn’t have asked for a better night, or better company, to commemorate the beginning of the rest of his life.

Iria was the first to excuse herself and bid goodnight after such an emotionally taxing day, leaving Lorenz and Claude to their own devices. That was where they found themselves, on one of the leather couches downstairs, illuminated by dim lamplight, wrapped in a fleecy blanket and a warm embrace as the hours ticked closer and closer to midnight. Claude sighed contentedly and Lorenz silently agreed, the pleasant serenity slowly but surely lulling him to sleep.

Claude lifted himself slightly from where he lay half tucked into Lorenz’s side, half atop his chest. “Penny for your thoughts?” He whispered, taking a moment to observe Lorenz before setting his head back down on his shoulder.

“I couldn’t even begin to tell you,” Lorenz whispered back, the confession honest but still pulling a soft chuckle from him. Claude didn’t respond, allowing him the time to organise his thoughts before elaborating. Lorenz absently adjusted his hold while he pondered, one hand coming to rest on the small of Claude’s back and the other draping across his shoulders. On any other occasion, the intimacy might have felt too alien to be any source of comfort, but the feeling of their hearts beating together in unison outweighed any anxiety Lorenz may have felt.

“I am…” he murmured after some time, “utterly overjoyed. No, that is not enough. I have never before felt relief or elation or triumph so intensely. It is as though I am taking my first breaths without the weight of the world upon my shoulders.”

Claude tipped his head back, adoring eyes gazing up at Lorenz. “Well, I suppose that would be because you are. You’re a free man now, Lorenz, and the world is your oyster.”

Overwhelmed, Lorenz could only express his gratitude by pulling Claude the short distance up to meet his lips. This time, Claude answered eagerly and they moved together as one, cherished and natural and everything Lorenz could ever have dreamed of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> stream bye bye bye and i'm still standing for a certified Chapter Vibe


	22. Tolerate No Obstacle

In comparison to the last time he had woken up on a couch, Lorenz found that a warm body by his side alleviated the discomfort at least a little bit.

It was a precarious and unexpected position to wake up in. He had two options: remain blanketed in blissful serenity even as the ache in his neck and back grew from irritating to unbearable or risk disturbing Claude and move before Iria could stumble upon them and ask questions Lorenz was not yet prepared to answer.

The choice, regrettably, was clear, and he gently pried Claude’s arms from his torso and ambled to the kitchen for morning tea. Ever the light sleeper, Claude followed shortly after, insistent on making good on his promise to not overstay his welcome. Iria later joined them, lured downstairs by light conversation and the sound and smell of eggs frying.

Lorenz smiled to himself. He had not felt so carefree in his home for many years, perhaps ever, and he wagered he would never tire of the newfound relaxation and comfort. Alas, all too soon, it was time to return to the holiday house in northern Leicester and retrieve their belongings. The round-trip back to the estate would be a lonely one, as Claude had stated he was due to visit his own parents, but Lorenz could hardly be dismayed, even when the conversation shifted to the previous day’s events.

“There’s something you should know,” Claude had said. “I know how relieved you are and believe me, the last thing I want to do is rain on your parade, but it’s not over just yet. We still have to wait for the investigation and the trial.”

“As long as Father receives his retribution,” Lorenz replied tersely, “I do not care how long it takes.”

It was a sentiment that Claude seemed satisfied with, as did Iria when Lorenz alone returned home the next day. From there, he wished he could say his life reverted back to normal but the simple act of walking into the estate without his skin prickling and hair standing on end was one of the more mundanely abnormal things to happen to him.

As Claude had repeatedly reminded him, he was but a phone call or text message away, as were the Golden Deer. Taking the words to heart, Lorenz exercised his newfound freedom and sought them out on the days that were too quiet for their own good. Ferdinand and Constance too were a welcome distraction, unaware as they were. Lorenz vowed that they would be the first to know all, about himself and Claude, about Father, when the right time came.

He could have laughed aloud at the situation. Here he was, barely a fortnight into the new year, and already two mountainous events had changed his life beyond recognition. The year was certainly shaping up to be an interesting one if _this_ was how it began and Lorenz wasn’t sure if he should dread or eagerly await what was to come next.

As it turned out, what was to come next was far less drastic but surprising nonetheless. Iria, as strong-willed and self-sufficient as ever, dismissed each and every one of the maids and butlers and bid goodbye to them with a sizeable bonus for their efforts over the years. Even Bernard, for all of his subterfuge, had been offered compensation, though Iria would later gossip to Lorenz about an adamant refusal before the driver stormed away for good.

In their absence, as well as Iria’s own as she continued to work her own job every day, the estate became more silent and still than Lorenz had ever known. Though the peace and quiet was far from unwelcome, he still found himself frequently out of the house to make up for lost time.

Per his own musings and Claude’s support in their summer break last year, Lorenz visited Derdriu and wandered the malls while snow gently fell. The sounds of passersby murmuring and wind whistling were soothing and briefly, he let himself forget how hectic the past few weeks had been. It would have been nice to share in the tranquillity with some company, but he was just as content to preserve the moment for himself, forever remembered as the dawn of a new era.

His days thereafter were spent in similarly relaxed ways and seemed to fly by of their own accord. Those days became one week, which became two weeks, and finally three until his holidays were concluded with a house party for Hilda’s birthday and the beginning of the new semester at Garreg Mach was imminent. Waking up on the last day of the winter break and bidding farewell to Iria pained him after all that had happened, though he knew they would meet again later that week, when they would come together to testify in Father’s trial.

It was with that thought weighing on his mind that he set off for the drive back to the academy. It was solemn and sobering but made his heart pound in anticipation. In just a few short days, Lorenz would see his father not as the businessman, but as the defendant, the criminal, the murderer.

He was due to meet with Seteth as soon as he arrived at the academy, and planned to obtain permission to take time off from his classes and attend as many pivotal trial dates as was allowed, though Claude was vocally against such formalities. Lorenz appreciated the support, but also wished his pleas for Claude to not skip his own classes to accompany him were given more consideration.

He sighed in exasperation that soon gave way for an amused fondness. Though they were apart, hearing Claude’s voice through the phone or reading his words via text messages often gave the impression that he was closer than it seemed, that he had not left at all. Perhaps their relationship reaching new heights was to blame for such a sense of attachment, or perhaps Claude had always had that effect and Lorenz simply had not been looking before. Regardless, it was sure to be a joy to see him after weeks spent distanced from each other.

His phone vibrated at that moment and Lorenz smiled wryly at the uncanny timing, but as he read it when he pulled over to refuel, he realised he had gotten caught in a bout of wishful thinking.

> **Group: Ferdinand von Aegir, Constance von Nuvelle**   
>  **Pegasus 6 10:13 am**
> 
> **Ferdinand von Aegir:** Good morning, my friends! I do not know about you, but I believe that tea and pastries are in order to celebrate our reunion! :tea: :cake:
> 
> **Constance von Nuvelle:** Exquisite! I have already returned and settled in. Shall we say the campus café this afternoon at precisely 3 pm?

Of course, Claude wasn’t the only person Lorenz looked forward to seeing again. He sent an affirmative reply before resuming the drive, eyes bright and a smile upon his face. The three of them had a significant amount of catching up to do.

* * *

It had been quite some time since he had sat at one of these tables, eaten this sort of scone and sipped at this sort of blend, Lorenz noticed. He smiled softly as his friends told anecdotes of their holiday breaks, the light feeling of nostalgia flowing through him.

“…and that is not all!” Constance gestured animatedly, more invested in her own story than either of the two men listening. “Balthus had his ban from entering the kitchen extended when he foolishly added salt instead of sugar to the cake Yuri was baking. The end result tasted atrocious but Hapi claimed it was delicious. Quite the odd bunch, they are. I wonder sometimes, how I ended up with ones such as them.”

“They certainly sound… like a handful,” Ferdinand frowned, evidently at a loss for words. “I’m afraid that story pales in comparison to Bernadetta allowing me to help clean her room before I departed. That may sound mundane to you, but I applaud her for showing such bravery.”

“And you, Lorenz?” Constance turned inquisitive eyes onto him. “Don’t you have a story or two to tell as well?”

“As a matter of fact, I do,” he cleared his throat, not sure how to broach either of the two delicate subjects. “I suppose I should go by chronological order. I have… well, er. That is to say that I am now…” his face flushed a pale pink and he turned, avoiding their eye contact. “…romantically attached.”

It took a moment for the words to sink in. Ferdinand beamed, wide and joyful, while Constance looked unimpressed as if she did not understand why his confession seemed so difficult or why it had taken so long.

“How exciting! Tell me, who is the lucky woman?” Ferdinand leaned forward interestedly.

A predictable reply but one that still caused Lorenz’s heart to spasm wildly in his ribcage, despite how certain he was that his dear friends would not judge him nor look at him with eyes of scorn.

Beneath the table, his hands trembled and he grasped onto his knees for purchase. “Ah, you see… Well, the fact of the matter is… There is no woman; there is only a man,” he paused. “Claude, more specifically.”

The ensuing silence seemed to drag on for eons before Constance shattered every shred of tension in the air by loudly clicking her tongue.

“Well. I daresay it’s about time,” was all she had to say, an eyebrow raised in amusement.

Lorenz reached for his tea, more to remedy his suddenly bone-dry throat than anything else, but stopped short before he could choke on it. Mortified and indignant, his eyes shot up to meet hers. “Now, what in the world is _that_ supposed to—“

“Constance, have some tact!” Ferdinand cut him off in an aside scold. “What she _means_ to say, Lorenz, is that is magnificent!”

Lorenz took a moment to compose himself, the relief cooling him at odds with the embarrassment that continued to burn. “Yes, well. The situation was difficult to navigate, but… I am deeply glad that we managed to come to an understanding. Claude has done rather a lot for me and I am truly grateful to have met one such as him.”

“My, someone is smitten,” Constance teased. “I am curious, how did this all happen?”

Lorenz swallowed. The confession alone had been trying enough; he didn’t think he could handle answering this question in particular without excusing himself and promptly combusting. The thought was as ridiculous as it was undeniable; how had he let an entire month pass since their… encounter, and still reacted like _this_ at the mere mention of his and Claude’s relationship?

“Ah— Well… It began at our New Year’s Eve celebration. I do not believe anything else is pertinent enough to warrant sharing,” he coughed, ignoring the way their eyes lit up, and continued before they could begin to protest. “What _is_ important, however, is the other news I have. There is no elegant way for me to say this, so I will be blunt.”

He took a deep breath to prepare himself, watching as his friend’s expressions shifted from morbid curiosity to concerned confusion.

“Father was arrested shortly after New Year’s.”

Silence fell, not for the first time.

Ferdinand blinked, brows furrowed and expression unreadable. “Excuse me?”

“You’re serious, yes?” Constance added in disbelief. “Tell me you’re serious. You wouldn’t dare joke about a matter such as this, would you?”

“I am serious,” Lorenz nodded. “Mother unearthed a surplus of evidence against him and he was arrested the next day. His trial is to begin this week and I have already arranged time off so that I may appear in court to testify.”

“Astounding…” Ferdinand lifted a hand to cover his mouth as he gaped. “I… I am speechless.”

In sharp contrast to her companion, Constance let out a loud spell of laughter. “To think that after all this, the fiend’s own son is going to be the one to seal his fate. I never thought I’d see the day. How otherworldly!”

“Would you like for us to accompany you to the trial?” Ferdinand suggested, looking to Constance for support and receiving an adamant nod in return. “Seteth is a very understanding man; I believe we may be able to arrange it.”

“Thank you but no, that won’t be necessary. Why is everyone suggesting that?” Lorenz wondered aloud, a hand pressed to his temple.

“Because this is an incredible development that we wish to support you through, you imbecile!” Constance splayed her hands on the table to punctuate her point, her annoyed expression belying the excitement in her voice.

Lorenz understood their enthusiasm quite well, having felt it firsthand barely a month ago. The notion that he and Mother, and the world itself, would finally be rid of such an evil being seemed almost too much, but day after day in the quiet estate had ingrained the fact into his mind. He smiled, he sobbed, he laughed giddily, repeating it over and over in his mind like a mantra.

_Father is gone, and he is not coming back._

Once more, Lorenz let a euphoric smile split his face. “Yes, indeed, it is. Nothing brings me more comfort than knowing that Father will never harm again.”

“If I may,” Ferdinand spoke over the top of Constance’s joyous cackling, “this is thoroughly unexpected. I find myself wondering what spurred this on, if you are able to divulge any details, of course.”

Lorenz paused, taking a sip of tea as he considered.

“For the time being, no, I cannot. Perhaps you will find out when he receives his sentence.”

* * *

The fact that, in the end, Lorenz had been unable to dissuade Claude from neglecting his classes brought him no small amount of frustration. And yet, he could hardly focus on that when he awoke and readied himself for the first day of court several mornings later.

“She’s gonna do great out there, I just know it,” Claude assured him without taking his eyes off the road. In an unprecedented role reversal, he had insisted on driving the moment he took in Lorenz and the faraway look in his eyes, refusing to take no for an answer.

Lorenz merely hummed contemplatively as he gazed out the window, wringing his hands together. He hadn’t the foggiest idea why he was so nervous; he had been waiting for this for weeks and weeks, eagerly anticipating the day when Father would finally be judged for his crimes. Besides, it was not as though Lorenz himself was taking the stand yet - that wouldn’t happen until next week.

But such rationale did little to stop the tremor in his hands or the way his breath came out in small, shallow puffs, nor was it helped when they stepped into the courtroom and Iria was nowhere to be seen.

“Perhaps I should call her,” he mused aloud to Claude. “It is not like her to miss such an important event, especially since we’ve been in contact all week.”

Claude shifted in their bench to face Lorenz head-on, bright green eyes piercing through him. “Hey, breathe, okay? She wouldn’t miss this for the world, trust me,” he curled an arm around Lorenz’s waist—something he seemed to enjoy doing quite a lot, it seemed—and spoke softly.

“Look, just because I won’t be following in my grandfather’s footsteps, doesn’t mean I didn’t learn a thing or two about how they run things here. Witnesses aren’t allowed to enter trials until they’re called, so I guarantee that she’s waiting patiently in one of the back rooms until then, and the only reason she hasn’t contacted you is because you typically aren’t allowed to use your phone in here.”

Lorenz inhaled and exhaled deeply until his breaths evened out. He shifted and removed his jacket before he could begin to sweat, fisting the fabric in one hand and clasping Claude’s hand in the other.

“Yes,” he whispered. “Yes, I believe you.”

Claude smiled warmly. He opened his mouth to comment further but was interrupted by the sounds of heavy doors opening at the front of the room. Father marched in, led by a pair of officers and dragging his feet like a sullen child. Immediately, his eyes landed on Lorenz in the front gallery bench and his deep-set frown twisted into an ugly glower. Then, he shifted his attention to Claude and, impossibly, that glare seemed to become even more deranged until Lorenz was certain he could hear the man snarling like a wild beast from halfway across the room.

In an instant, the last shreds of Lorenz’s unease evaporated and he squeezed Claude’s hand tighter. He did not frown or glare, instead resolving to hold his head high with resolute conviction. Father did not deserve anything from him, let alone his rage and hatred, copious as they may be.

The Judge entered shortly after, putting a swift end to any distractions, and Lorenz listened to the proceedings with heightened focus. After opening statements were concluded, the first witness was called without delay and Iria made her entrance, exuding an elegant power. She situated herself primly behind the witness stand and answered every question tossed her way with the utmost of grace, without so much as blinking when asked to identify the voice heard in the phone recordings.

“Mother, you did excellently!” Lorenz marvelled, seizing her in his arms without hesitation once the trial had suspended for the day.

“Oh, you flatter me,” she laughed, her voice and contact a great comfort to the son gathered in her hold. “I was shaking like a leaf up there!”

“We couldn’t even tell. You were very brave,” Claude confirmed, a charming smile tugging at his lips. One of his hands found its way to Lorenz’s shoulder and he nudged pointedly. “So were you, you know. I can’t imagine what it must be like for you both; one step closer to this all being over for good.”

Able to relax for the moment, Lorenz let his limbs ease, the tension in his shoulders and pinch in his brow loosening. It would not be long until the day when he would take the stand but after witnessing Mother’s strength and willpower, he awaited it eagerly, beckoning it with open arms.

That day arrived at the beginning of the following week. Like before, Claude had comforted and reassured him as they drove, Iria even joining the fray to launch a barrage of text messages, but unlike before, Lorenz was inclined to believe them without needing any further convincing.

In stark contrast to the previous week, Lorenz waited in the foyer with only anticipation and impatience in place of his earlier anxiety. When a bailiff approached him, he rose and entered the courtroom with purposeful strides, making his way to the same bench Iria had stood at. Briefly roving his eyes over the gallery, he was not surprised to see Claude and Iria sitting in the front bench, but the sight of Ferdinand, Constance and each and every member of the Golden Deer caught him off guard. His eyes widened of their own volition and he hardly had the time to draw in a breath before the prosecution was asking him to state his name and relation to the defendant.

The questions asked from then on were nothing Lorenz had not prepared himself for. His voice was even and neutral as he described Father’s mistreatment and malpractice, he held his chin high as he explained why he had compelled Iria to search through Father’s computer in the first place and his pulse remained steady when, just like Mother, he was asked to name the person in the recordings.

For the first time that day, he turned his head to meet his father’s eyes and, predictably, was met with a dark leer that would have ripped the breath from a younger and more naive Lorenz’s lungs.

“That voice,” his eyes narrowed the barest amount, the first and only signs of contempt he would show, “undoubtedly belongs to the defendant. There is no mistaking it.”

Proceedings were concluded again shortly after and Lorenz was greeted in the foyer by Claude throwing his arms around him in an embrace that ended far too quickly for his liking, torn apart when the Deer dashed up like children at a playground. After the usual commotion that consisted of Hilda and Raphael loudly and enthusiastically voicing their appraisals, Lysithea and Leonie scolding them for their disruptive behaviour, and Marianne and Ignatz looking exasperated but offering encouraging smiles nonetheless, they approached the main entrance to depart.

Ferdinand and Constance were waiting outside to pile on yet more support and Iria topped off the spectacle with one of her signature hugs. In return, Lorenz could only give a proud smile as he basked in the spotlight. Under other circumstances, their attention may have been embarrassing, bordering on overwhelming, but it was difficult to not to get swept up in the cheery atmosphere. After so much waiting, so much suffering, so much doubt, Lorenz had done his part in ensuring Father receives his recompense. Were he a different man, he may have even called it revenge.

Though he knew the trial was far from over, his impatience waned with every session he attended before disappearing entirely. Little by little, the pieces came together until they formed a whole picture. As it turned out, Father’s motive ran deeper than pure greed. Lorenz fought but failed to suppress his grimace when more emails were unearthed, revealing that Godfrey had dared to question Father’s business model and make suggestions for improvements at the Corporation. Apparently, that was all it took for Father to turn to this mysterious Arundel to remove Godfrey before he could get any ideas about overthrowing him.

The thought that Father, cold and impenetrable and fearsome Father, had committed such an atrocity out of sheer spite was as pathetic as it was horrifying, yet also darkly laughable. Even worse was the fact that the machinery accident had not been orchestrated, as Lorenz had suspected, but merely an opportunity for Father to ‘neutralise the threat’ without losing money or getting his hands dirty.

That bothersome officer from weeks ago later returned, to Lorenz’s displeasure. Acheron took the stand and revealed that his investigation ended rather unceremoniously when Father ‘coerced’ him into accepting a bribe and dropping all charges. Lorenz had wanted to sigh wearily when _that_ part of the story came out, but at least the humour in Acheron’s betrayal alleviated his irritation somewhat.

Shockingly, Father himself even revealed the answer to the most glaring question, shortly before the month closed and took the last of the cold weather with it.

“In case those snakes ever thought about double-crossing me,” he spat when questioned why he would leave such incriminating evidence simply lying around at all.

The urge to smile was almost as powerful as the urge to sneer. Father wasn’t even attempting to save himself anymore and it seemed his time was rapidly running out.

“Not to get your hopes up,” Claude said while driving back that day, as if reading Lorenz’s mind, “but I think things really took a turn today. Can’t imagine the case lasting much longer. How are you feeling?”

Lorenz took a moment to think before he answered. “I worry about what I will do with myself once all is said and done and Mother and I are truly free. But, that does not matter right now.

“All that matters is Father receiving the just punishment he deserves.”

* * *

The final days of the Pegasus moon took mercy, allowing Lorenz time off for Lysithea’s birthday between days spent in class or attending trials. The novelty bakery the Deer found themselves in was alight with chatter that was only exacerbated when an impossibly large, pink-frosted layer cake was brought out and sliced into pieces.

“Lorenz, I’ve been meaning to ask,” Lysithea said between mouthfuls of cake. “How have you been faring lately, juggling your classes so precariously?”

“Catching up on the material I’ve been missing is not easy but it ultimately hasn’t been a priority. I’m much more preoccupied with supporting Mother and paying close attention to any new developments,” he answered, receiving an affirming nod from her in return.

“It sounds like a lot of stress,” Ignatz commented with a frown. “Try not to go overboard, alright?”

“Don’t worry, I’ve been keeping an eye on him,” Claude slouched in his chair with a lazy smile. “As long as he still has his fifteen cups of tea every day, he’ll be fine.”

“Whatever would I do without you,” Lorenz deadpanned, taking a sip of his bergamot and belatedly realising that he was proving Claude right.

“Not much, I’d bet,” Claude’s smile grew and he discreetly nudged Lorenz’s foot under the table. “Who else is gonna boil the water every morning while you’re in the bathroom?”

Hilda suddenly dropped her fork to her plate with a loud clatter, making everyone jump and turn towards her in a mix of annoyance and confusion. She ignored them, frowning at Claude instead.

“Okay, this is torture,” she pouted. “How long are you gonna make us listen to this?”

Whatever response Claude could have given was halted when he collapsed into a fit of snickering, only worsening the bafflement palpable in the air.

“Is something wrong?” Leonie asked. “I mean, it’s just banter… They do it all the time.”

Hilda smirked, never taking her bright eyes off of Lorenz. “What’s _wrong_ is, don’t you two have some explaining to do?”

Lorenz gaped until he was certain his eyes were as large as Lysithea’s had been when she first caught a glimpse of her cake. There was only one possible explanation for Hilda’s cockiness, and the way Claude struggled to compose himself enough to shush her while Marianne buried her face in her hands assured him that he was not the only one who knew it.

“Don’t listen to her, Lorenz,” tone sharp, Claude turned serious eyes on him, before looking back to the rest of the group. “Or the rest of you, for that matter. Hilda’s just messing with you.”

The words had hardly formed in Lorenz’s mind before he was opening his mouth to reply.

“No. She’s not.”

Claude’s head snapped back up, his expression a mix of shock and disbelief and poorly-suppressed anticipation. Silence fell over the table, broken seconds later by Raphael.

“What’s the matter with all of you? You’re all acting really weird,” he frowned, perplexed enough to have forgotten entirely about his cake.

Lorenz swallowed. Slowly, he lowered his fork, his appetite forgotten. As the seconds dragged on, the possibility of changing his mind back diminished until he let it pass by entirely.

“Hilda is right,” he addressed the Deer in a low murmur before lifting his head to meet their curious eyes, willing his voice to strengthen with his resolve. “Claude and I have been keeping something from you, and I think it’s about time we come clean.”

“Wait, are you sure about this?” Claude asked, concerned.

Concerned for him and no one else, Lorenz knew, and his hands stilled where they lay trembling and balled in his lap. He smiled, attempting to match the same comfort and warmth and fondness Claude had showed him so many times by now.

“Yes, Claude. I am.”

If his fears had not yet been quelled, the beaming grin Claude gave in return surely would have dispelled the last of them.

Growing impatient, Lysithea slapped her palms down onto the table before either of them could comment further. “Out with it already, you fools. How long do you intend to dance around the issue?”

“Alright, alright, settle down,” Claude folded his arms behind his head, unbothered by her irritation, and gave an exaggerated clear of his throat. “Listen up, fellow Deer. Lorenz and I are proud to inform you all that we’re… together.”

Lorenz muffled a snort behind his hand. Here he had hoped Claude would handle the matter with more grace than he had with Ferdinand and Constance. Luckily, his humour went unnoticed as loud chatter from everyone attempting to speak over each other erupted around the table.

“Wait, what do you mean ‘together’? We’re all together right now…”

“He means that they’re dating, Raphael.”

“Oh. Hey, that’s great! Thanks, Leonie!”

“That— Wow, that’s brilliant! I don’t know what to say, honestly.”

“Ignatz, you’re a terrible actor. All of us are unsurprised, not just you.”

“Ah, sorry! Oh, but you shouldn’t be so blunt, Lysithea.”

“What wonderful news. You seem like the perfect fit after all this time.”

“Marianne, you’re sweet, but there’s no need to pretend. I dare you to look me in the eye and tell me you didn’t see it coming from a mile away.”

“I would, but you already told me weeks ago, Hilda.”

Their excitement was somewhat endearing but quickly became obtrusive and Lorenz lifted a hand to silence them. “Please, that’s enough of the racket. Need I remind you that it is Lysithea’s birthday and your attention would be better spent on _her_ instead?”

“Well, it took you long enough to notice,” Lysithea sighed, rolling her eyes. “Luckily for you, I’ll excuse it just this once, but only because it’s pleasing to see you all in such high spirits.”

Lorenz returned to his cake then, a content smile upon his face. He couldn’t help but agree with her there; his mood was as high as it had been the day of the arrest almost two months ago. Only now, he had not Iria or Claude or himself to thank, but rather the combined efforts and companionship of his entire forged family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you're like me and all this legal stuff goes over your head, fear not. next chapter will be more fluff and less ace attorney 💜💛


	23. Free

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lorenz freely lives his life after the court case comes to a close.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY FRIEND CONGERCINE!
> 
> This chapter is sappier than an entire forest of trees and I hope you all enjoy it 💜💛

Lorenz hadn’t known when he woke up that morning that it would be the last day.

He thought he had shaken off his initial anxieties about attending trials but as he watched a group twelve strong file into the room, it became abundantly clear that he hadn’t.

“All rise.”

His legs threatened to give out as he stood clumsily, the motion leaving him dizzy and feeling thoroughly unprepared for what was to come.

“Has the jury reached a verdict?”

He didn’t move, he didn’t blink, he didn’t breathe. Blood pounded in his ears, threatening to drown out the voices at the head of the room.

“We have, Your Honour.”

Time slowed to a crawl, the air thick and tense and crackling with energy. His head swam as though he would faint if forced to wait much longer.

“We the jury, find the defendant, Baron Edrich Gloucester…”

“ _Please_ ,” his mind whispered. “ _Please make the right decision_. _Please free us from that monster._ ”

“…guilty of all charges.”

The foreman’s voice rung in his ears while all other sights, sounds, sensations faded into the background. He registered a range of murmurs of interest but none carried through the air quite like the rattling of Father’s shackles as he was escorted out the room.

“Thank you for your service. Court is adjourned.”

Suddenly, Lorenz was outside the courthouse, a light, refreshing breeze tousling his hair. White noise of traffic buzzed in the distance, clashing sharply with the discordant screeching directly adjacent to him and currently squeezing out the breath he had finally managed to catch.

“We won, my boy! We won, Claude!” Iria cried, a trail of tears upon her cheeks. She released him, only to spin around and drag an unsuspecting Claude into her arms and draw a choked cough from his chest.

“Yeah, you—“ Claude cut himself off, puffing and panting until that light, melodic charm returned to his voice and he flashed them a beaming smile. “We did it. We won, you two.”

It wasn’t until that moment did Lorenz regain confident control of his limbs and he wasted no time in gently laying his head to rest atop Claude’s own, arms wrapping around his waist.

“We won.”

* * *

> **Direct Message**   
>  **Lone 5 4:49 pm**
> 
> **claude von riegan:** omw back now. see you soon :yellow_heart:

Lorenz smiled at the message before resuming his homework. It had been a pleasant Saturday, spent in the peace and quiet of the dorm and chipping away at readings and assignments that had piled up. It wasn’t the most exciting thing he could have spent his weekend doing but it had to be done and he would not complain.

Claude had left him to his own devices, off making his own fun someplace where he would not be a distraction, and Lorenz was content to work in silence for the afternoon until a sudden phone call made him jolt and lose his place on the page.

“ _Very well_ ,” he thought. “ _I suppose I’m due for a break anyway._ ”

He glanced down at the phone on his desk, picking it up and eagerly answering when he saw Iria’s contact picture lighting up the screen.

“Good day, Mother! How have you been faring lately?”

“My son, I— It’s simply wonderful, incredible, far better than I could ever have dreamed of—“

Her babbling was near incomprehensible and she cut herself off quickly, out of breath from excitement. After their victory the other day, it was easy to narrow down what could possibly have her phoning him in such a frenzy but Lorenz didn’t dare get his hopes up.

“Mother, please. Slow down, take a deep breath and start from the beginning.”

“Yes, good idea,” a short pause as she composed herself. When she began speaking again, her voice was slower but no less gleeful. “Well. I paid one last visit to the courthouse this morning to retrieve a copy of the records involved with your father’s case. I also spoke to a nice fellow there who answered one lingering question that was on my mind.”

Lorenz waited with bated breath for her to continue, not trusting his own voice to come out as anything more than a hoarse whisper.

“Life, my son. He was sentenced to life.”

From anyone else, and in reference to anyone else, the words would have been heavy with grim, regretful despondency. But Iria’s voice was as soft through the receiver as it was amazed, barely containing her joy and amazement and shock until she could find a way to scream it from the rooftops.

Lorenz broke out into a small and disbelieving smile. Giddy elation bubbled up in his chest until it could not be withheld, spilling out in the form of a single, breathy puff of laughter.

“What?! You’re serious?”

“Yes, of course I am!” A titter and a quiet sniff sounded on the other end. “Fancy that, spending the rest of his life locked away, atoning…”

“We won’t have to see him, think about him, ever again,” Lorenz finished the thought. His body felt weightless, as though he could simply float away, and a hand absently reached up to run through his hair in a futile attempt to ground himself. “We are free.”

“We are free!” Iria echoed, letting loose a loud sob. “We’re free.”

Lorenz lifted his head and glanced around the empty room before his eyes landed on the door. “I must tell Claude,” he decided, firm and purposeful.

“Yes, tell all your friends, tell everyone!” Iria attempted a laugh but only succeeded in wrenching out another broken sob. “Keep in contact, my son. I’m only a call away; do not forget that!”

Only when silence returned to the room did Lorenz let himself breathe. His lungs burned, heart pounding like a drumbeat in his ears, and he didn’t notice the tears cascading down his cheeks until he ran a hand down his face, overwhelmed. Before he could think about wiping them away and collecting himself, the door opened and stripped the air from his lungs all over again.

He stood quickly, far too quickly, and stretched out a hand as his vision blurred with tears.

“I’m back! How have you— Whoa, what the— Lorenz, your eyes… What happened?“ Claude’s voice, briefly happy, turned to panic as he surged forward and met Lorenz halfway.

“Claude, listen to me—“ Lorenz managed, now fully understanding Iria’s urgency as he could barely form words at all. He pulled Claude close to his chest in the hopes of alleviating his distress with actions until he regained his speech.

Claude pulled away just enough to peer up at Lorenz’s face, eyes wide with concern. He gingerly reached up to rest a hand against his cheek, using the pad of his thumb to gently caress the reddened skin and collect the rolling tears. “I’m listening. In your own time, okay?”

His touch was soothing and Lorenz leaned into his hand, eyes fluttering shut. He dragged in a shaky breath, letting himself be held and fussed over.

“It’s over, Claude. _He’s_ over. Over for good.”

Claude’s brows shot up into his hairline, lips parting. “You mean the case? What happened?”

Lorenz smiled wetly, a new series of tears springing forth as he gasped the words out.

“Mother called. Father was sentenced to life.”

Claude’s eyes opened wide and he blinked, distracted from swiping his thumb across Lorenz’s cheeks a second time. “He got _life_? You mean it?”

All Lorenz could manage was a short nod as his throat closed. Suddenly, Claude’s hand was gone from his cheek and braced against the small of his back while his other hand cradled the back of his head. The speed of the movement caught Lorenz off guard and tenderly, he returned the embrace, one arm around Claude’s waist and the other across his shoulders.

“That’s… I’m just…” Claude responded with a puff of breath and Lorenz felt him shake his head. They parted the barest amount, their faces inches apart, and Claude’s eyes crinkled from the smile that lit up his face. “That’s phenomenal, Lorenz. You did it.”

Lorenz’s smile fell and he blinked away the tears covering his eyes. “Must you exclude yourself?”

“ _We_ did it. Iria too,” Claude corrected himself pointedly. He guided their foreheads together, tightening his hold as his eyes slid shut at the same time Lorenz’s did. “We did it,” he repeated as though he couldn’t believe it.

“We did,” Lorenz’s voice shook, breath hitching as he readjusted his grip to bring them ever closer. “You and I, Claude, against the world.”

There was nothing else he could muster up the strength to say, but nothing else needed to be said as silence as warm as their embrace blanketed the room. Lorenz didn’t move, not even to wipe his face, simply letting himself be enveloped by Claude’s arms and hands. Relief and a deep, enriching contentedness flowed through his veins and he sighed as everything outside their room vanished, leaving them and only them.

 _Life_ …

* * *

“Guess what today is?”

“Wednesday?”

Claude snorted. “I moved in here one year ago today.”

That made Lorenz blink and glance at the date on his phone screen. The 9th of the Lone moon, it read. He looked up, morning tea forgotten, and shot Claude a wide-eyed stare. “Truly? That’s quite a milestone. How do you propose we celebrate?”

”I’m glad we’re on the same page,” Claude smiled. “Let’s go somewhere later today, just the two of us. I’d wager you’re in dire need of a break.”

“I wouldn’t quite phrase it like—“

“Uh-uh,” Claude waggled a finger. “That’s not up for debate, I’m afraid. Just look at all the stuff that’s happened to you and it’s only the third month of the year.”

Lorenz sighed, his eyelids suddenly heavy. “Yes, you are correct, although I daresay these trials, metaphorical or not, have been stressful for all of us. Some time to ourselves would be lovely.”

With such appealing plans ahead of him, it became exceedingly difficult to properly focus in his classes but with a mix of willpower and stubbornness, he held off on letting his mind wander for too long. Eventually, patience won out and he left his last class with his head held high and one thing on his mind.

After a short time spent in the bathrooms refreshing himself, Lorenz met Claude in their room and they departed with haste. Claude insisted on driving, a destination apparently already in mind, and lighthearted chatter filled the air as he never ceased his boasting about his ‘impeccable date spot-choosing skills’.

As it turned out, Claude’s date spot-choosing skills were quite impressive indeed. He had veered off into a side of town that Lorenz wasn’t overly familiar with and they soon found themselves looking out over a modest park. Around them, and the small, vacant area they claimed for themselves, the park was akin to something out of a child’s storybook. Green grass was adorned with trees and hedges and well-kept flower bushes, families milled about walking their dogs or watching their children romp and play, though not to the extent that the place could be called crowded, and the sun, high in the sky before beginning its descent in the evening, seemed to tie everything together. Though the real spectacle was the lake that sat in the middle of it all, bright and blue, shimmering under the sun like a sea of sapphires.

“So, what do you think?” Claude’s voice said from behind him.

“It’s perfect,” Lorenz turned and gaped at him. He was down on his knees, smoothing a picnic blanket out on the ground while a basket lay nearby. “How could you have organised this so quickly? Don’t you have four classes on Wednesdays?”

“I do, but I also have a lunch break,” he smiled, reaching into the basket and presenting a plastic bottle and some cups. “Pink lemonade?”

Lorenz sputtered and made himself comfortable on the blanket beside Claude, already pouring a cup without waiting for his answer.

“Thank you dearly for this, Claude. It truly is perfect,” he couldn’t help but repeat.

Claude looked up at him then, his smile soft. “You deserve it, you know.” Lorenz opened his mouth to protest but Claude was quicker, holding up a hand to silence him. “Don’t try and change my mind. The worst part’s over now but the dust hasn’t settled yet.”

Lorenz quieted at that, lifting his cup and taking a contemplative sip. He knew what Claude meant and he was right; it had taken only a few short days for the rumours to begin circulating. Gossip travelled quickly between teenagers, especially ones whom the likes of Dorothea and Sylvain were among. Lorenz had done his best to pay them no mind, but as more and more heads turned when he entered a room and the truth became more and more distorted, it became harder and harder to hide his disdain.

“I’m managing,” was all he could say. It was the truth. “People in the halls seem to either pity me or are wary of me, as though I played a part in it all too,” his lips twisted bitterly at such a despicable notion, though it was soon chased away when Claude laid a hand on his knee.

“Don’t listen to them,” he urged. “I know you, and you’re far too strong to let the thoughts of uninformed outsiders get you down.”

“Yes, you are right once again,” Lorenz said quietly, tilting his head back to find solace in the sky.

When he finally tore his eyes away, it took a moment to notice the inscrutable look Claude was fixing him with before he seemed to throw caution to the wind and bridged the gap between them. Any reservations Lorenz would normally have had about public displays of affection melted away at the first delicate touch, gone and forgotten. He sighed when one of Claude’s hands found its way to the back of his neck, stroking the soft, short hair there and he lifted his hands to cradle Claude’s cheeks in response. Claude smiled against him before moving in for another sweet kiss like Lorenz was all that mattered in the world.

All too quickly, they broke apart for air, foreheads resting together as they breathed together softly.

As if eager to ruin the serenity, the sun emerged from behind one of the few clouds dotting the sky, bathing them in an oppressive heat. It was unusually warm for the middle of the Lone moon, a fact that was made all the more apparent the longer they sat out in the open.

Lorenz lifted a hand to shade his eyes. “The sun’s being quite the nuisance.”

Claude shifted to look at something over Lorenz’s shoulder and promptly broke out into a smirk. “There are water sprinklers over there,” he suggested unhelpfully, eyes sparkling with mischief.

“No. You cannot possibly be suggesting—“

“Oh, but I am.”

Before Lorenz could stop him, Claude had kicked off his shoes and was trotting over to the sprinkler. Within seconds, he was soaked from head to toe and Lorenz huffed, rolling his eyes.

“Claude, you imbecile,” he called after him. Against his better judgement, he removed his own shoes and socks before standing and following, barely suppressing an amused smile. “That water is meant for the grass, not you. You’re going to get us kicked out.”

Claude’s only answer was a loud whoop as he leapt directly into a stream of water again. He met Lorenz’s eyes, looking positively thrilled, and wordlessly stuck out a hand. Lorenz really should have expected the firm tug, should have prepared to be drenched in a spray of cold water himself. He gave a surprised gasp when he was pulled forward, immediately losing his balance on the slippery ground and colliding with Claude to bring them both down to the grass in a tangled heap. Claude let out a wheeze when his back met the ground and Lorenz unceremoniously landed astride him. Puffing and panting to drag back in the air that had just been knocked out of him, Lorenz lifted himself to his elbows but a bright and wonderful sound halted him before he could pull away completely.

Below him, Claude laughed uproariously, chest and shoulders shaking and tears beading by the corners of his eyes. His head rested against the grass, his mop of dripping-wet curls splayed out in all directions like the world’s messiest halo. Water droplets speckled his face and Lorenz brought a hand up to gently brush them away.

He swallowed, cheeks coloured by a searing, overwhelming heat that persisted even with freezing water being rained upon them. His heart raced, an almighty adoration welling up inside that he couldn’t possibly keep to himself.

“Claude…” he said without realising he had opened his mouth. “I love you.”

Claude’s laughter abruptly stopped, his eyes flying open wider than Lorenz had ever seen. For a horrible couple of seconds that dragged on for far, _far_ too long, he didn’t move nor speak; he merely stared.

“What did you say?” He said in a faraway voice, eyes unfocused.

“I love you,” Lorenz repeated as his voice faltered to a weak whisper. The silence lingered and he swallowed again. He began to move away as the cold, constricting fear that he had overstepped latched onto his heart but a pair of arms looped around his neck, locking him in place.

“Hey. Don’t go,” Claude murmured against his lips. “I love you too, Lorenz. I love you so much.”

Lorenz believed him. Settling himself back down, he closed his eyes and spoke with his heart, kissing again with greater fervour and baring his innermost soul. Claude was eager to respond, giving a low hum as tongues danced and hands grasped. When they begrudgingly released each other and lay back to bask in the setting sun, Lorenz couldn’t stop himself from saying those three magnificent words again, repeated over and over like a mantra, tasting and feeling better every time.

* * *

The next day, Iria phoned him again.

“It is good to hear from you, Mother!” Lorenz greeted. “I have news.”

“How funny! So do I,” she sounded as jovial and joyous as ever as she gave a loud exclamation of surprise. “You go first, my son, and I will follow.”

“I’m sorry to say that I have been keeping secrets from you,” the words came to him easier after practice and Lorenz smiled, letting his voice be carried warm and confident through the receiver. “I have been in a relationship with Claude for quite some time now and…” a deep breath, “I am in love with him. I do not know what that means for me as a man but what I do know is that I am happy, the happiest I have ever been, with him by my side.”

After a moment’s pause, Iria let out a quiet gasp and a muffled coo. “My son, that’s truly fantastic. I always knew he was a good man, ever since the first time I spoke with him on the phone. I know you’ll treat each other right,” her voice began to waver towards the end. Lorenz would have waved her off, quiet but good-natured, if her words didn’t warm his heart and send glee skating through his limbs.

“Yes. We will,” he mustered before remembering himself. “Now, what was it you wished to say?”

“Yes, well. Put mildly, your news is far more uplifting than mine, I’m afraid,” she sighed, a blend of wistful and weary. “I wanted to tell you that I’ve decided what will happen to the Corporation.”

Lorenz pursed his lips. He had tried to avoid thinking about the Corporation and the so-called red carpet laid out for him, but the recent developments had thrown a wrench into those plans. After the sentencing, it had been discovered, much to the standing Vice President’s fury, that Father had been unwilling to leave his beloved business in the hands of anyone outside the family. Thus, control had been handed over to Iria until Lorenz was of age to inherit his position as normal, something that wasn’t particularly pleasing for any of the parties involved.

“I must admit, I have been curious about that,” he mused. “So, what decision did you come to?”

“You’re aware that there’s no bouncing back from such a scandal,” she stated, her voice cold and flat. “Articles are floating around online and I’ve even been approached by the odd reporter, buzzing around like flies while I try to shop. I’m sure _he_ would have found a way to sweep it under the rug but I would sooner die than follow in his footsteps.”

Lorenz gave a stiff nod at the sentiment even though she couldn’t see him. “And I would sooner die than ask that of you.”

“Mm. Bearing that in mind,” she continued, “I think it’s best for all of us if the Corporation is dissolved permanently.”

Lorenz couldn’t fully suppress the shallow gasp as her words echoed in his heart and mind. He had a feeling she would eventually arrive at this conclusion, holding such bitter feelings towards Father and the Corporation as Lorenz did, but hearing the words spoken aloud was a shock to the system. He had long since accepted inheriting the position of CEO as his lot in life, even when he vowed to walk that path on his own terms. Even if it meant years and years of undoing Father’s work, locating and dismissing everyone who had ever had a part in his crimes, all to achieve his goal of becoming an honourable leader.

But it was undeniable that Mother had a point; if the news of Father’s incarceration had reached the students of Garreg Mach so soon, Lorenz could scarcely imagine the backlash of the general public. After learning that the business they had previously bought products from had hidden such horrors for so long, the public would not forgive nor forget and Lorenz would be nothing short of a hypocrite if he set out to make them.

“Yes,” he agreed. “I think that’s a wise decision as well.”

* * *

Ignatz’s birthday that weekend had the Deer visiting the botanic gardens at Gronder Field.

Flowers and plants of all sorts lie in neat assortments as far as the eye could see and their colours danced before Lorenz’s eyes. Some of them were large and vibrant, others small and delicate, some were dark and curled in on themselves and some spread their petals wide in a flourish as if they were glad to simply be a part of the world. No matter how different one variety was to the next, they all shared one thing in common; they were all uniquely beautiful.

He breathed deeply, taking in the fresh and sweetly-perfumed air. The flowers at the estate had always been a comfort through difficult times, and now that the clouds of his life had parted to let the sun in, the flowers that filled his vision seemed to shine brighter in return.

“Hey, Lorenz? Got a minute?” Ignatz’s soft voice drew him from out of his reverie.

“Of course. How have you been finding your day, Ignatz?” Lorenz turned to come face to face with him, who looked just as subdued as he sounded.

“Very nicely, thank you! I quite like it here; the scenery is just wonderful, don’t you think?” Ignatz brightened, whatever was on his mind temporarily forgotten before he remembered himself. “But, that aside, I wanted to ask you something. You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.”

Unsure, Lorenz nodded. “I understand. Please, what is troubling you?”

“Thank you,” Ignatz hesitated, wringing his hands together. “I, uh, saw on the news yesterday that your family business is shutting down. Is that true?”

Lorenz quirked an eyebrow at the question and the shifty attitude. Ignatz had always been meek, shy and often had trouble putting his own thoughts forward. Those traits had been subdued over the past year but remained all the same. And yet, here he was, asking Lorenz outright about a topic that many would consider difficult when he had no reason to not believe the news reports and move on.

Before the other Golden Deer and their tour guide could leave them behind, Lorenz began to stroll leisurely. “Yes, that is correct. My mother gained ownership and made that decision recently. The Gloucester Corporation cannot stand in this world any longer after all the pain it has caused.”

“Ah— well. I can certainly understand why she might make that call. Are you upset at all by it?”

Pensive, Lorenz answered without looking back at him, carefully focused on a collection of lilacs to their side. “No. My younger self would have been but now, I agree with her. The Corporation was a ticking time bomb that neither of us had any true interest in defusing.”

“That’s… good to hear.”

“Indeed.”

“Well, um. That’s all I wanted to know, so thanks for hearing me out,” Ignatz smiled up at him, the sunlight reflecting off his glasses complementing his sunnier mood.“I’m glad we got to have this conversation.”

“As am I,” Lorenz answered. He had been about to ask what had prompted such a line of questioning, but noticed that he had already lost Ignatz’s attention.

A short distance away, Raphael was talking and laughing animatedly with Marianne, who was smiling peacefully with what appeared to be a small bird perched in her hand. Lorenz glanced back at Ignatz to find that he was mirroring her smile yet didn’t seem to be looking at her.

“And that brings us to the end of our tour!” The guide suddenly called cheerfully from ahead. “Any questions?”

“Yeah, I have two questions,” Claude raised a hand. “Do you guys have a café here and is it any good?”

After a long pause and a poorly-concealed sigh that almost had Lorenz empathising with him, the tour guide pointed them in a direction and fled, leaving the Deer to themselves. It was early, far too early to head back to Garreg Mach just yet, so a stop at the café was in order before they could find something else to occupy the rest of the afternoon with.

But before that could happen, the Deer apparently had some energy that needed to be expelled before they reached the café, as they had taken to chasing each other around the open, park-like area of the gardens. Lorenz felt somewhat like an exasperated parent watching them, but couldn’t help the blissful smile that crossed his face.

It was hard to believe that since the beginning only a year ago, these people who he initially considered nothing more than a group of headaches had become so integral in his life that he could not picture it without them. After everything they had been through, after everything he had overcome with their advice and support and companionship, the Deer were as much a family as Iria herself.

Lorenz knew it, he believed it, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Being around them was freeing. They were still as loud and obnoxious as the first day they all met in the campus café and formed the Golden Deer, but they were so incredibly freeing, invigorating, encouraging, as though there was nothing worth worrying about when he was with them. And, he supposed with a smile, at this stage there really _was_ nothing worth worrying about. Somehow, against all odds, the pieces had all fallen into place, thanks in no small part to everyone who had been by his side throughout.

By their own volition, Lorenz’s eyes found their way to Claude.

Claude, who he hated with every fibre of his being the very first time they met. Claude, who was nowhere to be found when it mattered and a never-ending source of irritation when it didn’t. Claude, who changed his life when Lorenz granted him the opportunity to do so. Claude, who had become his love, his light, his everything.

Claude, who had done so much for him and who deserved to know the full extent of Lorenz’s gratitude, nothing more and nothing less.

“A moment, Claude,” Lorenz called once they began to leave towards the café. “Something curious has just occurred to me.”

“Oh, yeah? What’s on your mind?” Claude effortlessly fell into step beside him, their hands sliding together like pieces of a puzzle that had finally been solved.

“You have spent much of the year thus far supporting me through my problems, but I have not been granted such opportunities to show my love by doing the same for you.”

“Don’t worry about that; you’re great at showing your love,” Claude grinned, then tilted his head thoughtfully. “Although I gotta say, it’s funny that you’d think of this now of all times. The other day I was thinking of bringing you to meet my family.”

“Claude, are you certain?” Lorenz’s eyes went wide and his jaw dropped, a disbelieving smile quirking the edges of his parted lips. “That… would be an honour.”

“I am, Lorenz. I’ve had plenty of time to think it over and I think it’s finally time,” Claude’s eyes sparkled in the sunlight when he looked up, his smile small in size but boundless in appreciation and adoration. “Anyway, meeting them won’t be so bad but getting there is another story. They live... pretty far to the east.”

“Do not fret; the distance will be no trouble,” Lorenz punctuated the claim by clutching Claude’s hand reassuringly. “Besides, I’ve spent much of my life inland, so east would be a nice change of pace. How far away do they live? Ordelia?”

“Little bit further.”

“Goneril?”

“Getting warmer.”

“Fódlan’s Throat?! Claude, driving there would take nearly ten hours one-way…”

“You’re right, the Throat is pretty far, but not far enough. Beyond it is where our goal is.So, tell me, Lorenz. Have you ever been to Almyra?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> god dude. fluff and slice of life really imagines my dragons. the wholesomeness almost makes me forget about how soon this fic is going to be finished tbh.........


	24. A New Dawn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In a distant future, in a distant land, Lorenz and Khalid stand as one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Looks like we've reached the end 💜💛

Lorenz Hellman Gloucester is perfectly content with his life.

It’s not perfect - he’s not particularly well-suited for the harsh Almyran weather, for one. Even after settling into the routine of tri-annual visits five years ago and moving permanently three years ago, he cannot claim to have grown accustomed to the scorching heat. Said heat had made it difficult to learn to properly care for his flowers, especially without Mother’s precise guidance to tell him if the pH levels in the soil were correct, or if he was watering them too much or not enough. He misses Iria and all of his friends terribly, despite talking on the phone every other day, and the heavy weight of homesickness still envelops him on occasion.

And to say nothing of the challenges that come with learning a second language at twenty-one.

It’s not perfect but he wouldn’t exchange it for anything. He may not enjoy the humidity and discomfort or the sweating and sunburns that are synonymous with Almyran summers, but he enjoys visiting the lake or beach whenever the heat becomes too much. Learning to cultivate in such conditions was a test of patience that eventually paid off when he became the owner of a modest flower shop in the city, as well as an impressive and well-maintained rose garden right in their own backyard. His partner too had carved himself a fulfilling career, continuing his pursuit of knowledge in the fields of economics and financing. Only a year ago, he became a financial advisor specialising in travel and partnered with Wyvern Airlines to help people see the world outside their own. The distance between them and friends and family in Fódlan is daunting at the worst of times but, like clockwork, they always find the time to return and the Golden Deer’s holiday reunions become more exciting every year.

And, while becoming fluent in Almyran has been one of the most rigorously difficult and lengthy processes of his life, it has also allowed him to appreciate the beauty of his beloved’s true name.

Speaking of which…

Lorenz stands from his armchair and ambles upstairs to tap a knuckle against the bedroom door.

“Are you almost finished in there? We’re going to miss our reservation.”

The door opens and a figure bustles through. He’s dressed immaculately and looks utterly ravishing, his beard neatly trimmed, his hair combed back—except for one rogue strand that stubbornly hangs by his right eye where his braid used to be—and his suit sharp. The jet black and stark white that hugs his form invitingly is less flashy than Lorenz’s own ensemble, a deep purple piece with wine-red accents and a cravat in place of his partner’s bowtie, but no less eye-catching.

“All done. Just had to make some last-minute preparations.” A gleaming smile is thrown his way, one that almost makes Lorenz swallow down his reply.

“Dear me. What have you done this time?”

“It’s a surprise.”

“You and your surprises… Some things never change, hm?”

“Oh, don’t give me that. You love the dramatics and you love me. Isn’t that right?”

“Well. I suppose when you put it that way… Yes, Khalid, I do love you, and everything you have to offer.”

That earns him a soft gaze as their hands intertwine. “I love you too, Lorenz. Let’s be off, shall we?”

Within the hour, the evening sees them at a fine restaurant in the heart of the city. It’s not the first time they’ve been—they spent their first anniversary here, as well as the night they bought their first house—and it certainly won’t be the last. They’re brought to the second floor, reservation intact, and seated at a table beside a window that looks out upon the city lights. It’s neither crowded nor desolate, with just the right amount of background chatter from other patrons accompanying the soft music floating through the air. The singer’s voice croons low through the room, interspersed with a gentle, fluttering piano.

It’s perfect. So perfect that Lorenz aches to find out what surprise Khalid could possibly have in store for him.

“Shall we hail a waiter?” He says instead, perusing the selection of entrées.

“No… Not just yet,” Khalid’s reply is distracted, and Lorenz wants to smile in agreement. Every time they come here, something different on the menu catches their interest.

“Oh, you can’t decide? Very well, I will choose a wine in the meantime.”

“It’s not that. I know exactly what I want.”

Lorenz looks up in confusion. Khalid’s thoughtful expression is illuminated by dim candlelight.

“Please, do tell.”

“A life with you.”

It’s a sweet sentiment, of course, but Lorenz’s brows furrow. He opens his mouth to remind Khalid that he already has that, but he’s interrupted when Khalid stands from his seat. Then, in one slow, calculated movement, he comes to a kneel between Lorenz and the window, streetlamps and stars lighting him from behind. Whatever words Lorenz could have managed shrivel up and dissolve in his throat when Khalid reaches into his pocket and produces a tiny box.

“I love you so much, Lorenz,” he begins, the adoring smile that was hidden beneath the surface emerging at last. His voice is so soft, the words so weighty, that Lorenz’s breath is stolen away from deep within his chest. “Every day you make me happier that you’re by my side, living out this incredible journey with me. But now, I want you to make me the happiest man in the world.”

He slowly opens the box, his smile never faltering. Inside, a ring is nestled in a bed of crimson. A verdant gem, cradled in the middle of a silver band, sparkles beneath the light fixtures, as bright as Khalid’s eyes. Lorenz is only able to gape for a moment before his eyes fill with tears and he forces them closed in a futile attempt to blink them away.

“I want you to marry me, Lorenz.”

The string of words is more magical than anything he’s ever had the pleasure of hearing, and draws a shuddering gasp from his lungs that he doesn’t ever think he could have suppressed. The first tear rolls down his cheek where it’s caught by Khalid’s thumb, stroking twice before his hand reaches up to slide through a curtain of purple hair.

“Khalid,” the word is weak, breathed out from a burning throat and aching lungs. “There is nothing I want more than to be your husband.”

He catches a glimpse of a wide grin before Khalid seizes his lips, uncaring of potential onlookers, and he pushes back, both hands flying up to cradle Khalid’s cheeks like he’s done so many times before. It’s overwhelming, almost painfully so, and Lorenz fears his heart may implode from sheer joy. He pulls away first, forced to cut the kiss short to drag air into his heaving lungs, and a breathless laugh bubbles up from his chest. Khalid takes the opportunity to gently pull Lorenz’s left hand from his face and work the ring onto a slender finger, admiring it appraisingly before pressing a kiss to Lorenz’s palm.

“It’s like I always used to say,” his voice shakes somewhat towards the end and he huffs an elated laugh to mirror Lorenz’s. “You and me, against the world, right?”

“No,” it comes out as nothing more than a quiet puff of air that Lorenz almost doesn’t hear himself. He peers down at the ring, fitted comfortably around his finger, and smiles with everything he is. “We’re against the world no longer. A world where I am beside you, my love, is a world far too good to stand against.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaand that's a wrap!
> 
> It's hard to believe that I only started writing this towards the end of June, huh? 6 months and I don't even know how many hours, leading to 24 chapters and almost 100k words. As a wise man once said, my flabber is completely gasted.
> 
> I want to thank everyone who accompanied me on this ride. To all of my readers, whether you left kudos or comments or bookmarks or simply read and kept my fic in your thoughts, thank you for sticking by me. To all of my friends who let me bounce ideas off them or yell about things when I should be sleeping, thank you for your continued support. This fic wouldn't be the same without you guys.
> 
> sleeperbyday over and out 💜💛


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